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. 


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741