From the icy fire of the living grave. I rise. Through the nightmare of your dreams defered. I rise. Through the hundreds of people dying everyday. I rise. I rise morning, noon, evening, and night. I rise because God rises. I rise. But the time you will rise is up to you. You rise when you decide to stop hating. But through and through and through again I rise when I rise and because I rise I will rise again.

Let those weeds that are thirsty drink all they want. Just like the Sycamore in the forest. I rise. Does my black and blue blood still make you uncomfortable? That's too bad and good that you don't like the truth anyway. I rise because the graphite analyzes the lies you say and hide from the world. I rise because there are moronic demons that I must look above. I rise because it is my destiney to rise.

The tempest rages high while reaching low. I refuse to let go of the freedom of iceolation. I rise because I leave behind the sunny days of the struggles I face. I rise because I'm all alone and the war is never over. I rise because I have faith that all the love of the world is one second from the torture of the hell I was born into. I rise because I rock my loneliness to sleep in a sea of apathy and liberty. I rise because i am dead.