It use to be darkness, but I walked in the light.
It used to be loneiless, but I was bright.
I was a walking blank slate then I began to write,
write the passion that a piece of paper ignited, and my worries washed away with the stroke of a pencil.
Against fear, I fight with potential through the use of an ordinary ustensil,
Against the world of doubt and terror, I fight,
and within the last my last right, I will fight for my voice to be heard from the darkness.