Weather, cold and frigid, without a care for comfort
Any bare feet frozen in the winter snow
Should we come to a stop
Here, no one would stand again.
I do not care for crossing rivers,
Night of Immanuel
Going forward to my own battle
Towards paradise or certain death
Onwards I trek, only to realize I’m alone
Of two other boats that couldn’t sail
So my life, I hope,
Was worthwhile spent.