Wanting. 

Wanting what I can't see,

what I can't hear,

what I can't touch,

what I can't have.

Wanting.

For a long time I think myself alone.

For a long time I find I'm not my own.

Wanting.

And who is to say,

what is the difference between love and war?

Day after day, I go to the mirror once more.

With bloody fists,

we come to battle again.

With sword in hand,

we fight till the end.

It's a battle within,

it's a battle without.

I find a way through,

and I find a way out. 

The journey is hard,

the journey is rough.

I see the clear,

I see the end.

Wanting.

Nothing.

Wanting.

Again.