The Cell I Built

I put gold on my fears like they were trophies won,

Shined 'em up in the mirror ‘til I came undone.

Built a house out of habits I can’t defend,

And laid down in chains I called my friends.

Ain’t no guard at the gate, ain’t no key to find —

Just me and the walls in my own damn mind.

I’ve been shackled by what has been,

By the echoes, by the weight of men.

There’s no warden, no cell door swingin’,

Just the voice in my head always singin’.

If freedom’s near, I ain’t felt it yet…

I’m a prisoner of what I can’t forget.

Tried prayin’, tried runnin’, tried losin’ sleep,

Tried drownin’ the voices that cut too deep.

But silence is loud when your soul won’t speak,

And time don’t heal what you won’t release.

I’ve smiled through storms, I’ve danced in doubt,

But I’ve never known how to walk this out.

I’ve been shackled by what has been,

By the should’ve beens, the way back when.

There’s no bars, but I’m still confined,

To a life that lives inside my mind.

If redemption’s real, it don’t come quick...

I’m just draggin’ chains that never clicked.

They say forgiveness is the door —

But what if I’m the lock and the floor?

I built this cell with shame and sin...

And I don’t even know where I end, or begin.

I’ve been shackled by what has been,

By a past that I keep breathin’ in.

But maybe peace is a choice, not proof,

Maybe truth don’t knock — you gotta move.

So I’ll take one step, even if I crawl...

‘Cause the cell I built...

Ain’t a cell at all.