Through the thickest woods...

Through the thickest woods,
through the crusted wounds,
on the ice of hearts,
past the ends and starts -

I will run to you,
I will fly to you.

Like by morning dew,
I’ll be quenched by you,
and on hottest coals,
through the murk of souls -

I’ll depart for you,
and I’ll fade for you.

On the highest peak
I will linger, meek,
'till the deepest well
grants me place to dwell

and to pray for you,
and to die for you.

From the ash I’ll rise,
ever tranquil, wise,
and unseen to men...
And I’ll know then -

you remain in me,
you’re engraved in me.