I trudge along a barren field,
Whose soil is thick with blood,
But tarry on I will until,
I find a blooming bud.

I ran along through city streets,
of black and cement gray,
But tarry on I will until,
I find another day.

I step along a marshy swamp,
whose air was hung with death.
But tarry on I will until
I clear its rancid breath.

I walk along a misty plain
Whose starless nights were dark,
But tarry on I will until
The night would soon depart.

I seek my long forgotten love,
Whose wandering just like me,
But tarry on I will until,
Her hopes would come to be.

Be not a restless wanderer
Who dwells on ancient hues,
But tarry on you should, until,
Your soul to heaven flew