The life, the blood, the endless stream of love.
What else did I have, what else could I give.
With the farmer's hand, hardened with toil
I planted this land, once fertile, now barren.

The question 'what if' still torments me.
And a part looks back, into the past bygone.
Yet, one part races right ahead, it says
No more; no more could I have given.

No more a life to be judged, persecuted.
No more a life lived in shame, in fear.
No more anger, no more love, joy;
No more will these eyes carry tears.

The beginning, those tentative steps.
Then came the dance and the flourish.
And yet, when the dust finally settled
It was back to the beginning.

There was a judge, a jury and a trial
Yet no words said, a judgement passed.
There were memories galore, and yet
It was back to the beginning.

The good done, interred with the bones
The bad, bleeding wounds on the mind.
There was celebration, of love, and yet
It was back to the beginning.

The future today, as lonely as years ago
The heart an empty ground of bloodshed.
And yet, a tiny seed of hope emerged
Perhaps it is a new beginning.

The sins of the past washed by tears,
The start line has been redrawn again.
With the pain in my heart I will run
Perhaps it is a new beginning.