Beyond the melting snow, I flee to stand
atop the rock, somehow seeking a balm.
Without a thought, still hope, a cause or plan,
I venture out each day, alone for calm.
When I was younger than today, my wit
began to grow. I took each chance that passed
even as the judgement quickly came. A pit,
so he comes forth, a boy still brash and crass.
We gave him time, the needed chance to grow,
so here, in this moment, fighting rhyme:
a tender influence, no crime to show.
We fled these lies towards light, the blight of time
and so, within, maintained eternal scope
of love, displaying proud the loosed bond hope.