As you walked in the valley

Past the hilltops of ash

Over the hot coals of burden

And through the fires of spite

The soul burned from beneath you

But was replaced and healed

So that when the wretched ice tried

To freeze your heart

And the stoic stone began to exist inside you

The flesh always seemed to hold

For when the biting winds tried

To lift you past the horizon

The line of faith continued

To tie you back down to sanity

But now that you stare past the final wall

And you glance upon the saplings

And the flowers with their budding color

You realize that seeds

Do make a difference

Even when planted

By a hypocrite’s hand