There was a maiden on a hill,
Dressed in white, standing still,

She stood in silence waiting there,
The autumn wind caught up her hair,

She never moved, all night long,
She never spoke, her voice was gone,

She stood there staring out to sea,
Feeling lost...for she was free.

No one told me it was possible to fall in love in different languages,

No one told me you could fall for a place, a feeling, or a moment much the same as you could fall for a human,

No one told me that "home" doesn't have to mean where you were born and raised,

No one told me that you could feel more emotion than you thought possible for someone you don't know,

No one told me that hearts can speak to each other without ever using voices,

No one told me that loss and pain can come even from the brightest sunshine,

No one told me that I had the terrible ability to break others hearts, because they were too busy warning me not to let mine be broken,

No one told me that sometimes when the thing you've always dreamed of really happens you don't recognize it at all,

No one you me that what often looks like darkness is music and light wearing an unwanted disguise.

He fell in love with her peculiarities,
The things that made her different,
But they had so few similarities,
That is caused their friends to whisper,

He wanted a simple life,
One where things would stay the same,
But she moved as freely as the tide,
Shifting as the winds began to change,

He promised they would never be apart,
They would start to build a home,
But she was born with restless heart,
And her feet were made to roam,

She begged for him to follow her,
To the corners of the earth,
But not all creatures are like birds,
Who are given wings at birth,

She tried to stay and wait,
Live the life she knew he wanted,
But she felt called to another fate,
So she lived in silence haunted,

For a while he was happy,
With his beloved by his side,
And yet he saw the longing,
Hidden deep within her eyes,

You can't keep your birds in cages,
And expect them to survive,
Their souls will ever fade,
Like a painful, slow goodbye,

The colors of her spirit,
Went from bright to gray,
She knew her love could feel it,
But there was nothing he could say,

In the end the love that saved him,
Was the cause of her demise,
The life of peaceful calm,
Trimmed her wings so she can't fly.
- [ ]

I have cuts and marks pressed into me,
that may be ugly scars,
But is the deep, dark nighttime sky,
upset that he has stars?

For though they stick quite deeply,
into his deep, dark skin,
he can't help feeling grateful,
that they outshine the dark within.