As embers tend these trembling hands

    which pray for warmth above a glow
    from lowly flames raised in your name

        while winter splinters thick resolve
        to weather nights beside myself

        inside this frigid wilderness
        of self-inflicted solitudes

all thoughts of you, such things you said
enkindle hopes I'm far from dead

    that darkness proves a fleeting spell
    and I am nowhere close to hell

    because your love preserves me here
    where shadows waltz away with fear

    beneath a full moon looming near
    too luminous to disappear

    before my mindless eyes see clear
    how much your touch makes me revere

    what most you mean to me, my dear:
 
then I begin to persevere.