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She sang like a nightingale |
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Like a mother to a child |
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She shone like dew on a meadow |
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In the merest light of dawn |
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In a time of need and whispers |
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A whole new world came to her |
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Neither asked nor wished for it |
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The Weaver made her a shrouding |
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In her early years she lost it all |
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Grief enough for one to share |
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But the care of a King enhanced her will |
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She rose again and bravely carried on |
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She saw the days embraced |
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By her hopes and dreams |
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She saw the nightly sky |
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Open it's diamond eyes |
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The truth and the lies together |
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The daggers and the tongues |
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Made her grow like a rose |
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Among the thousand thorns |
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She broke her shackles |
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And threw them into the sea |
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Of never ending dreams |
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Eternal home for the forever lost |
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She raised her wings from the earth |
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And flew towards the Sun |
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Great White against the clouds |
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Made her shine within |
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She prayed against her dread |
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And hoped once more |
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She cried and stood in the storm |
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At the hour of great loss |
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She consumed the fear of her kin |
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And believed once more |
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She cast away the storm |
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To love and to dream again |
