In the Valley

Tear to tear, breaking heavy steps. A mountain I must climb and deliver every hunt- to the sweetest waterfall. All burns, all scars- must remain where they began. Every flower has its nectar, this seed to be born, is a symbol of rejoice. In a garden where all was burnt; in need of pouring love. And of many little stars to move with this bruised heart. In the Valley of secret mourns, where mountains hear the cry, and the mist darkens the route. This mountain I must climb it will always take the steps through the glorious hand of God