Stabbing Memories By F Isci I wonder if there is a price to pay in life, and that price must have been the struggle of patience. Through the darkness of a tunnel, I came out of it inspired by the love of light by those who held that faith. Those who I have met believed that the cost of freedom was less important than the cost of material gain. For me the cost of freedom was the breath of the spoken word. As long as someone heard the truth, then that's all they needed to survive their faith and continue to love anyone who deserved that light. Yet I have met those who have listened to me, faked their love and wounded me like a snake strangling me from the breath of life. They have built a gate around my mind delivering me the memories hard to perish but living on like a wound that never heals. But their envy will never break my faith no matter how hard they cover my tracks, or bury my ambition, I will rise like the sun behind a black mountain, I will rise high enough to touch the moon and forever the world will hear my heart.