From Ashes I Rise

I was six years old, with my face in my hands. Mom hit the floor,

by the rage of a man. Every night was a war, every day a fight.

Another step down swinging, no safe place at night. I swore to myself

I wouldn't break like glass. But the mirror cracked with every scar from the past.

Blood on my shirt, bullet my skin. I thought it was the end, but it wasn't the

end. From ashes I rise, from fire I came. Scars are my story, but they're not

my name. No needle, no jail, no chain can define. The hell I survived.

His glory is mine. I drowned in the poison, I gave up the fight. The shadows held