I grew up in this place,
This place of fear...

I know I had a part to play,
I know I caused some pain...

Nobody hears me cry at night,
Nobody even knows...

I look back at us,
Healthy...

I spent these hours,
these days...

I know, you can only
be pretty on the outside...

Its always been the same through these days,
Always war, always pain...

In a room bathed in darkness,
silence...

Let the object of objection
Become but a dream...

Power of the witches rise,
Course unseen across the skies...