“Revenge in the hands of your enemies is a loaded gun. You can beg them for mercy, wave the white flag of surrender, but the only true elixir for the vitriol they bestow is a measure of hatred dispensed of your own.” ― Addison Moore, Wicked

I’m waving the white flag, surrendering unto myself.

I’ll not fight anymore, the images in the mind, the blood in my veins

flowing with intent, with fervor

I’m waving the white flag, surrendering unto you

I’ll not fight anymore, the will you have, the ardent fervor in your eyes

following my every more, with fervor

I’m waving the white flag, surrendering unto all

I’ll not fight anymore, the fires were ignited long ago, the breath of summer

flowing with intent, with fervor

I feel that I surrendered myself a long, long time ago. Inside there is a passionately soul, imprisoned in a wall of fear and self-loathing. The prison grows, year after year. It builds upon itself time and again. Time will tell if that prison can be broken down, torn brick by brick until the soul is released; freed from the shackles that time and fear imposed.

I feel that my will needs be stronger, grow more, feel more. Walled away as it has been, it has grown feeble minded, dilapidated…an old home shambling apart. Torn down and built stronger time and again, it will rebuild once again. It will be rebuilt.

Dido – White Flag