I stand on the bloodfield, shell-shocked and guilty,
The sole survivor escaped. They all had it coming.
The feelings of affliction as we watch our love dying,
But for some strange reason we just keep on marching.

The ice that drips from isolation has melted me to this.
With all of my power this is all I can offer and it's broken, it's broken.

My greatest confession is that what I claim dearly is the very thing that leaves me so scared.
What if I find, in the quiet, that all I am is the sum of my habits?

The answer to my questions is "be still and know that I am loved."

Right here the Good King has been claiming His victory and it's offered, it's offered
it's given to me.

~Andrew Osenga