I woke up with the rain inside my head,

Footsteps echoing where I used to stand.

Maps fold into yesterday’s mistakes,

And every mirror whispers “you can’t understand.”

I'm searching for a spark I can’t seem to name.

The city hums in a language of doubt,

Crowded rooms feel empty in the crowd.

I wear a smile that fits like a mask,

While the doubts inside are shouting loud,

And hope feels like a treasure I’ve never found.

Oh, I’m so lost, I don’t know where to turn,

The compass spinning, every lesson unlearned.

If mercy’s a road, it’s a road I haven’t earned,

I’m so lost, and the fires inside still burn.

I write my prayers in the margins of night,

Prayers that crumble when the dawn draws near.

But the silence speaks in a language of rain,

Telling me to breathe, to hold my fear,

To trust that even broken hearts can steer.

Sometimes I think I’ve stood at the edge of faith,

Tasting danger like it was promised grace.

But every step seems heavier than the last,

And time keeps slipping like a thief in place,

Leaving me wondering what I’m chasing in this chase.

[Instrument SOLO] [Guitare Classique] — 6–14 mesures

If you hear this pulse, don’t mistake it for fear,

It’s a ember of courage that won’t disappear.

Even when the night is all I have to keep,

I’ll hold on to the ache till morning’s clear.

Oh, I’m so lost, I don’t know where to turn,

The compass spinning, every lesson unlearned.

If mercy’s a road, it’s a road I haven’t earned,

I’m so lost, and the fires inside still burn.

Tell me the map is hiding in plain sight,

Tell me the dawn will answer to my cry.

I’ll walk the miles that fear wants me to quit,

With weary legs and weathered, hopeful eye,

I’ll keep believing there’s meaning in this sky.

There’s a chorus growing from the dust of my doubt,

A whisper rising like wind through a storm.

If this is the journey, then I’ll walk it out,

Till every scar becomes a story reborn,

Till I find myself in the place I’m meant to form.

I’ll keep walking through the rain’s soft kiss,

Learning who I am in the ache and bliss.

If being broken is the start of grace,

Then I’ll arrive, someday, with quiet grace.

Five lines to seal this vow I’ve spoken out loud:

I am not the end of the road I dread.

Hope hides somewhere in the spaces between sighs,

I’ll rise again, despite the doubts and the cries.

This lost road ends where my strength meets the dawn.