Drought

Verily, the fervor of torment's blaze,
The chill of ignorance's dark haze,
Maketh a choice most dire.

Naught but the eternal light we seek,
Not searing heat, but pure and meek,
Nor frigid cold, but wisdom's fire.

Yea, our strength shall ne'er wane,
Unless, in stubbornness, we quench the flame.

And, should we persevere and prevail,
This promise of salvation, we shall unveil.