At the foot of the hills, I strain to see what lies ahead. My own hand blind my eyes. My soul longs to scale this mountainside, but my body fails to continue. Fearing this plague that I have born, I cower to hide form the light. Back into the mire, crawling deep inside the dim embrace of my delusive savior. The wolves of my addiction are unleashed. Tear through my flesh and shatter my bones, this body is nothing. Upon this mount strikes a mighty hand. The heavens open up, into Your hands I am risen. Pulled away, this poison is purged. Though the enemy will scheme to bring eternal destruction, it is in Christ alone that I have been set free.