I do not wish for peace

I tell myself that peace is not for me,
For guilt, a tempest, gnaws my being's roots,
Old sins, like shards, carve deep within my soul,
And anguish drowns each breath I briefly draw.

For guilt, a tempest, gnaws my being's roots,
Yet I press on, to tear through my dark void,
And anguish drowns each breath I briefly draw,
Despair proclaims redemption but a dream.

Yet I press on, to tear through my dark void,
These chains of old, I cast them to the wind,
Despair proclaims redemption but a dream,
And questions if my strife holds any worth.

These chains of old, I cast them to the wind,
Yet I defy the flame, scorn fate's decree,
And question if my strife holds any worth,
But through this storm, a star begins to gleam.