On and on I march now, to reach the end at last,
Across the boundless chasm devouring my past;
Using all for fuel, dreams and wants set free
With her face on my banners, though she knows not of me.
To lurch across is fatal, the engine would stop dead;
The sublimated fire, to bridge the gap of dread,
Necessitates a pain that yields a spark divine,
As she waits in the distance, unknowing at her shrine.