Permit the words I write upon this page To remain truthful, hammered into stone. “All walk the path of life,” intones the sage, “But only fools attempt to walk alone.” The mournful cry of hope’s unjust defeat Laments the steps of those who’ve gone astray. With misery the road is so replete, That even earnest pilgrims lose their way. But you and I need not accept this fate, For night’s dread purpose flees before true love. Although, athirst, I walk through deserts great, You are my saving rain from up above. Our paths may wind but may they never part, Because you are the keeper of my heart.