Chisel and Chip

Dust in my lungs, trying to breathe through stone, Carving out calm from a mind overgrown. [Verse] I temper the temper, the ember remembers the pressure that bends me yet leaves me unbroken, Storm in my chest, yet I steady the tension, preventing the sentence from turning to motion, I enter the moment, opponents are notions promoting commotion through over-reflection, Reflection correcting perception's projections, rejecting conjecture for tested direction, I quiet the riot of voices inside me, divide and identify which are deceptive, Deceptive suggestions requesting attention, investing my focus in fear of objectives, I sharpen conviction through friction and distance, resisting the instinct for instant conclusions, Conclusions are often the offspring of impulse; I trust in examination, not intrusion, Here in the forge where desire conspires to tighten its wire and kindle compulsion, I sever dependence on praise and appraisal; approval is brittle and prone to corrosion, Clear as a mirror made cleaner by winter, when vanity weakens and virtue grows stronger, I'd rather be weathered by hardship and labor than worshipped by crowds for a season and squandered, Tomorrow is mist on the rim of the distance, a vision I visit but never inhabit, Today is the field where I train my attention, refining the pattern through disciplined practice. [Chorus] Break me against it, I rise from the strain, Storm in my chest, Stone in my frame, Weight to wisdom, Fire to faith, Pressure to purpose, Loss into grace [Verse] The weight of opinion grows heavy as armor, yet armor can hinder as much as protect me, I carry what's useful and loosen what's useless; discernment determines what truly affects me, I know what is right, yet I still need reminding; the mind can grow blind to the lessons it carries, I mend my attention and strengthen intention whenever distraction attempts to unsteady, Storm in my chest while the banners are snapping, the ramparts are rattling, drums in the distance, Stone in my frame while the gale presses harder; endurance is forged through repeated resistance, I fail and recover, recover and falter, then gather the fragments and fashion a lesson, The fracture reveals what the surface concealed; every correction refines my perception, The chisel keeps falling, the filings keep flying, the outline emerging through measured reduction, A figure is freed not by adding adornment, but carving away every false construction. [Chorus] Break me against it, I rise from the strain, Storm in my chest, Stone in my frame, Weight to wisdom, Fire to faith, Pressure to purpose, Loss into grace [Outro] Chisel and chip till the image is honest, If I cannot hold it, I will not be haunted, Break me against it, Again and again, Storm in my chest, Stone in my frame, Fall to the earth, Return to the flame.