Tristan Robert Lange

Soul Ascendant

A woman walked

The windy roads of life,

Brim-filled with strife,

Cutting like a knife.

With anger ne’er rife,

She did not give up.

No.

She made it through

Sober and dry,

With tears in her eyes,

Her head to the sky.

That’s not where I

Find myself tonight.

Though I wish it so,

I know not how to go,

Whether to or fro’,

I am forever slow;

It’s starting to show.

Lord, I call upon your

Everlasting strength,

And at every length,

I shall rise,

I shall reprise,

I shall overcome.