Language of my soul

From Moscow lights to the Stockholm mist, A nineteen-year-old girl, she no longer exists. The plans I drew at fifteen fell like rain, Washed away the ego but left a stain. I packed my bags and I flew back east, To face the shadow and to tame the beast. They think I'm back because I'm small and weak, But they don't know the secrets that I seek. Two degrees on my desk, ink on my hands, Translating my life into different lands. HFC screens in the middle of the night, While the ocean outside is ready to fight. I got Russian for the pain, English for the Flight, Chinese for the wisdom in the dead of Night. Turkish for the passion burning in my veins, And, but there's a secret dialect that breaks the Chains. It's the language of my soul, The only one that makes me whole. Beyond the grammar and the rules I'm told, I'm writing my story in letters of gold. He Left a silence where a song should be, So I filled the void with a symphony. No longer a girl who needs to be led, I'm a media empire inside of my head. From the twelfth house fog to the Vietnam sun, The countdown to freedom has just begun. I am the icon, the scholar, the ghost, Recovering my power on this frozen Coast. But the fifth, the fifth is the one I Kept. It's the rhythm of my heart, it's the truth I've never slept. Oh. It's the language of my soul, the only one That makes me whole. Beyond the grammar and the rules I'm told, I'm writing my story in letters of gold, Gold. Call me a clone, you hear the echo Call, I'm the one who rose after the fall. No more subtitles, No more explanations, Just a frequency. The language of my soul. The language of my soul.