No more battles against old cruel sanity
No more picking the false fruits of a dead branch on a dead tree
Cause I'll keep waging wars against false Gods
Their thrones of dust, mean nothing to me
My heavenly Father formed me
A warrior fierce, divine in mystery
He clothed me in armor, forged from pain,
And blessed my hands with dream and flame.
He made me in his image bright
So I'd know I'm no shadow born of night
No accident in some blind sea,
But a masterpiece, eternal and free.
He called me his beloved, his Sanam true
Before the world could name or misconstrue.
He gave me a share in his endless heaven,
Before I ever tasted the fires of seven.
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