[Intro] [(A heavy yet warm guitar strum — as if each chord is forcing its way through tangled thorns. Piano gently joins in, timid at first.)] [Verse 1] Thorns dig into my palms… I’m not hiding my hands… Let the marks remain… Every step here… Like a word… Spoken in reply… To the silence… That pressed down with fear… They whispered: “Don’t go there.” I know… Happiness doesn’t fall from the sky… Like light… Sweet water… It doesn’t wait in a shop window… Doesn’t glow with a bright… Empty sign… It’s born in the cracks… What seemed like a mistake and a risk… It scratches… it stings… Which means… I’m definitely moving forward… I’m not standing on the sidelines… Watching… As someone else… Claims their sunrise… [Chorus] Through the thorns — to the light… Not to the glitter of storefronts… Not to someone else’s words… To what… Resonates inside… Like a taut, true string tone… The path to happiness… Isn’t a smooth parquet floor… Isn’t a path made of soft dreams… It’s when you… Exhausted… Still whisper: “I’m ready.” Ready for the pain… For the weariness… For the long nights with no answers… Happiness… Isn’t the finish line… It’s the changing rhythm of the heart along this light. [Verse 2] They say… “Take the easy way… Find something simpler… Why do you need these thorns?” I see a glimmer of something alive beyond the thorns… Not made of dust… Maybe… Just hope… Hiding in the shadows… If we don’t walk through the thorns… We’ll never see the lights… Falls teach us to get back up… Weariness… Teaches us to cherish every breath… Even if the road grinds down the soles… Into the dense, heavy sand… I believe… There, beyond the barrier… The sky becomes clearer and higher… What’s waiting for me isn’t a reward… It’s the feeling that I’ve finally heard… My true self, without masks… Without loud and empty promises… Just a person… Who didn’t give up in the middle of the trials… [Bridge] Let the thorns cut, let the night be without a glimpse of light — I see a golden glow of day in the distance. Pain is the price for the right to be honest, for not hiding myself from the fire. [Chorus] Through the thorns — to the light… Not to the glitter of storefronts… Not to someone else’s words… To what… Resonates inside… Like a taut, true string tone… The path to happiness… Isn’t a smooth parquet floor… Isn’t a path made of soft dreams… It’s when you… Exhausted… Still whisper: “I’m ready.” Ready for the pain… For the weariness… For the long nights with no answers… Happiness… Isn’t the finish line… It’s the changing rhythm of the heart along this light… [Outro] [(The guitar gradually fades into a long, vibrating note; the piano holds one pure, bright note until it dissolves into silence.)] A step… Another step… Through the thorns… through the shadow… through the doubts… Not toward some foreign ideal… Toward my own light… I’m walking…
