Though self I know, yet my heart is lost.
Though logic is the sense, but what is sense without purpose?
The fire that burns me, the eternal truth of my creation.
Yet it seems to be, but I know that I'm not alone.

Though seem I'm not, yet still to come,
The deep tavern of the night, seeking what's within the people's eyes.
A wandering bird, carrying the courage of a lion's heart,
Though seem I'm not, yet still to come.

The silent flow of lake, the loud glory of heaven.
The ant of routine, trying to fly to reach the truth behind everyday newborn lies.
A serious guts, a wonderful hope,
The universe's secret recipe behind every growth.

Epidemic may rise, yet the heart is not convinced.
Norms may cover me, yet belief conquers them all.
What makes the uniqueness?
Is it the longing for what is not yet defined along the wall?

Flee, free, and find.
Life is bitter, but the Lord is not blind.
What makes you believe, is what makes you to stand-out,
Honors you gain, sacrifices you give,
Yet how precious it is, your compassion to be lifted up.