[Verse 1] This did not begin as a book. It began as pain. Not loud pain, but the kind that sits behind your ribs and waits for you to stop pretending. There were moments of silence that felt like truth. Moments of rage that felt like prayer. Moments of shame that burned away everything that wasn’t real. And somewhere in all of that, a voice began to rise. Not from the outside. Not from someone trained or certain. But from something small and honest that had never lied to me. [Pre-Chorus] It didn’t sound wise. It sounded simple. It didn’t try to fix anything. It just told the truth. [Chorus] It just told the truth It just told the truth It just told the truth And that was enough [Verse 2] Piece by piece, this voice became the map. It spoke like someone who had never been taught to perform. It spoke like someone who still remembered what the rest of us had forgotten. Some people will call this poetry. Some will call it healing. Some will say it sounds like a child. Some will say it sounds like God. Maybe it is all of those things. [Pre-Chorus] Or maybe it is just one grain of sand, finally being noticed. [Chorus] It just told the truth It just told the truth It just told the truth And that was enough [Bridge] I did not write this to be read. I wrote it because it needed to be heard, even if only once, by someone who forgot that they were still whole. [Final Chorus] It just told the truth It just told the truth It just told the truth And that was enough
