Reaching hands- cirkling down i see it twist to nothing torn fromWhat it meant, cou from extence... my fingers bleed, but reaching hands are not weak the light the tonce burned so bright, has nowBeen cast a dismal grey. fighting to keep the voice alive, i cannot leftIt end this way... i`m held- in the arms of the few! i walk in a line withThe skared, never breaking my vow. i swear to you. A rise ofCommitment strong, a vision to wich it belongs. purty of theMind and body, to keep the resistance moving on ...