As the saying goes, "All who wander are not lost";
  I wandered far and long and very nearly was lost.
I would have been if not for signs you left for me;
  markers on the road to you, lanterns in the dark.

I knew, and always have known, that I was seeking for you,
  though I nearly surrendered many, many times.
It was always then, in the moments before I abandoned the quest forever,
  that you would whisper to my heart: "Not yet. Not yet."

And with these hands, and your love, I would rise again;
   but to what end, and for what purpose, forgotten long ago.
That clear morning where we stood together for the last time,
   had all but vanished, barely a memory, a whisp of a dream.

It was an empty land I sojourned in, but beautiful,
  so beautiful my heart would have been broken.
But no longer, for I have journeyed far enough in such places
  that I have become like them, unable to recall even your name.

But one thing in me shall never die, shall never grow old and wither,
  shall never sigh and fade into the twilight of this desert.
My heart will not forget, nor my soul abandon, nor my hands forsake
  that which gave me destiny: my love for you.