Flowing fields of greenery
Passes from view in a blur.

Choosing to serve my own will,
Harvested fruits of failure.
Evil's cloaked advice of ill,
Shackled with carnal allure.

Foreign headlights of no name,
Slice through the late evening's air.

From the depths of black darkness,
To heights of such ascension,
How stunning is this progress,
What a joyous transition!

The soft drizzle of the rain,
Mists across the open field.

With a joyful gait,
I walk with the LORD.