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A splinter, of a sliver, of anguish lies in you
A shroud, made of metal, could never be as true
A glimmer, of a whisper, of hope that was so new,
seems vanquished, without trace, leaving me so blue
A story, without ending, that started long ago,
is blinding, without finding, the place that is aglow
A songstress, like a blackbird, that let out a soft crow,
Reminding, me of hiding, in that which you bestow
A journey, to the center, of perplexing tales we told,
has finished, as it's spinning, as in my hand I hold
Your footsteps, leave impressions, of days that were so cold,
The table, in the garden, the seasons chose to fold
Forgetting, as we're sailing, on a sea thats full of tears,
powered, by a motor, who's fuel is made of fears
A stranger, is observant, as he asks me for my sphere's
Wondering how long is it, that takes away the years
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And as she plays,
her sweet song of laughter
floats through the air
and warms my heart
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