Walking through the fields of life 

Past the trails of memories

The wood is whittled by the knife

And all wood is begotten of the trees

 

Yet, sometimes in valleys dark

I become forgetful

And the thought I neglect to hark

Beckons me regretful

 

Thus I stray in purpose 

In identity and affections

I battle feeling worthless

I have no pure intentions

 

And in the darkness deep

So cold and miserable 

Stumbling on the mountain steep

Cowardly corrupting courage, captivating control

 

And I am hit

By the stones of the offender 

If only I had a lantern lit 

I wouldn't feel the need to surrender

 

Before I take one more pivotal step

I have a pivotal thought

A pivotal tear defines me wept

Because the pivotal blood I forgot 

 

And though darkness surrounds me

Brightness has found me

Yet I am burdened by one thought completely

In the midst of my redemption, how could I not remember to see

 

That I was in darkness 

in the night

Until Jesus gave me His yoke 

So light 

 

By taking on my bitter loss 

The crowned King so divine

And bleeding on the sinner's cross

That the Lamb and bride May dine

 

Yet I am just a splinter

Whittled from the tree

Hoping in the winter

To remember, it should have been me.