A mother's passing
is the first death her children
will grieve without her.

You'll be my goddess;
just make me a believer
and I'll worship you.

May the night grant us
a second chance at those dreams
that by day we lack.

My second hand heart
wants to turn back time
to that split second moment
when your hand was in mine.

Every time I drift
something always carries me
back to your embrace.

Shattered dreams become
glass shards beneath our bare feet
on roads we must walk.

There was a time when you and I
were impossibly tied to one another,
when we reached the ends of our ropes
we had no place to go but each other.

Years of the world trying to pull us apart
had only made us more tightly bound,
but when it came time for us to part
there was no way we could be unwound.

The problem with knots is when they get too tight
and you no longer want them teathered,
you're left with a single heartbreaking choice:
one end needs to be severed.

A rope that's cut will lose its strength
and the ends will begin to fray,
so one would expect it to loosen in time
until it finally falls away,

but even though my end was cut
the day we were torn apart,
the piece of me that remained tied to you
became the chains that still bind my heart.