I am like a tree
The roots are the voices in my head
So many different decisions
A fight between the angel, the fallen and me
I am always silent
But there are a thousands whispers
conflicting and contradicting
They make no sense
At last I still grow
I am not perfect
I am crooked because of my mistakes
But I bear good fruits because of my foundation
God is like nature
He is the rain when I am dry
The sun providing my needs
And always leading me the way that I will prosper
