The night holds its knife
Close to the threads that hold my soul
It stretches its fingers across the blade
And sends me surging into the starry skies

Until the morning comes with its blanket
Covering all of me with its threads
Renewing me with purpose and life
Each time it stretches

With each passing hour
A frail voice consumes me
I'm left paranoid and hollow
By the time the night creeps in

Like an old stranger walking in my head
Their footsteps rattle me
Shattering the interweaving
That hold this mask in place

My nerves weaken as does my will
Until I think upon the lilies
Blooming in the sleepiest of dawns
I let go of my blanket