The strands are loose, my soul is weak
I pray that nights are mine to keep
To hills of iron, wrought by flame
Swirling thoughts of what once were pain

Humbled by frost, stained by truth
A kaleidoscope of twisted youth
Winding words that tick like clocks
Dawns are brightest within the box

For sweetest cries my rain bird sings
Afraid to fly without my wings
For I will bear myself to land
To walk and weave with new found hands

Drink from rivers made by time
Learning that strength will soon be mine
Spirits of steel, forged by the still
Worked by ways that are yet to yield

The strands are tied, my soul is strong
Like rock my heart charges ever on
For subtle sounds my rain bird makes
On paths of cloud where heaven wakes