Damming myself from the silent omen
That slips off the skin of the brave and broken
I miss the way my skin was last spring
I miss the things I'll never be
I twitch in the sunlight and stare
I will never be a king

Hang love up in the open air,
You were never meant to be just a wall
On your windowsill,
Chips of bone and broken teeth from last fall.

My son was born to be a warrior
Busting through time
Woven from nothing