Some of our wounds
Come from those around us
While some are self inflicted
By thorns growing from within
But the story remains the same
Once we carry the hurt and shame
All we can do is heal
Or let it destroy us

The wounds that we are left with
We cannot control
The curse of the pain
Feels like all we know
Until we find the strength
Drawn from the roots below
In blackened soil new power grows

New power grows

Sentenced too a lesser life
For what we have been through
Or growing in ways that we
Never though possible before

Cutting off what can’t survive
So we can let our weakness die

The wounds that we are left with
We cannot control
The curse of the pain
Feels like all we know
Until we find the strength
Drawn from the roots below
In blackened soil new power grows

Regeneration comes after death
And virtue from rooting out damage
Cut off what can’t survive

The wounds that we are left with
We cannot control
The curse of the pain
Feels like all we know
Until we find the strength
Drawn from the roots below
In blackened soil new power grows

New power grows