The leaves swiftly swayed in the wind
As he calmly walked through them
Not a sound was heard throughout
No crushing leaves or break of a stem

The stars shine bright like diamonds
In the night sky the moon is the only light
But he needed it to be dark
He couldn't do the job if it were bright

He stumbled steadily across the trail
His feet making quite light imprints
But he still kept trotting on
His skin still at a chalkboard black tint

The moon almost setting now
But he was almost there
The coffin was set up already
At the top of hells stair

The sun almost up now
But he found the body in the clear
His wife hanging from the tree
The only thing he had left was fear

His calm walk stopped suddenly
And he hung the rope parallel to her
And stepped closer to end like her                  
And this time it would be for sure

Redlight running faster than the words I left unsaid
and in the tides of sirens I lay broken with nothing left
Looking through those shattered windows, pained eyes
Watch the hands that healed now bloodstained leave their sight
My sight

Choking on the ashes of the house we built
The world stood silent and the oceans filled
With sweat and tears paired with heartache that no one else could feel
and memories scared with sorrow of which these wounds may never heal
Let them heal
just let me heal

Gasping for the surface giving all I have
Escape the grave of suffering with my last breath
So convinced by bitterness that I may never love again
But I'll stand strong against the gods because thats just who I am

But its not for you
It never could be
and its so hard with every step we're unlearning
this house of cards is burning
burning
Down

What do the gods know
of humanity
to be unlovable
Thanks for convincing me
That I will die alone
Hurt the ones that mean the most and no one in this world was
Meant
For
Me

And its not for you
It never will be
and its so hard with every step I'm unlearning
But my hearts caught fire
and its burning, burning now.

.
Remember when, proud walks in bonny glens,
I took her hand, we did pretend
And she became, princess of daisy chains,
O how those days still refrain.

When spring appears, wee birds sing their love songs,
Of the winds, in her hair.

We made a bed in the pine needles fine,
Misty rains fell and tasted of wine
And the sun made its way cross the skies,
Little moons welling in our eyes.

When spring appears, wee birds sing their love songs,
Of the winds, in her hair.

[ Bridge ]

Summer bled into autumn so red
And the seasons sweet, they all fled,

Now winter comes and the valley is run
And the wee singing birds have all gone.

I walk alone down the mountain sides,
To the sea of dreams, close in my eyes,
For she once was a true love of mine,
The north wind blows, out of time.

*Seasons sweet in bonny glens.

I have met Masters and OGs
within joint commissions.
While my dear, Granddaddy Purple’s
spending my tuition.

But, it was merely a Blue Dream
at blunt ceremonies.
While Hindus and Afghans breed in
holy matrimonies.

Look at all of Mary Jane's strains,
I want to be like them;
stuck pondering my bud's embrace
and all’the broken stems.

Reuniting the Skywalker's
was quite like the Death Star
far out, in space and burns fast like
Sour Diesel’s quick car.

I rode the Pineapple Express,
then I hit the Train Wreck.
Lights out! The conductor demands
that we have our pipes checked.

Look at all of Mary Jane's strains,
I have plenty of them,
still pondering my bud's embrace
and all’the broken stems.

My bud's came less often and I
became less credible.
I told my bud Bubba that we
should switch to edibles.

“But, you can't eat these sweets unless
the treat's gradual high
stops your bud’s from disappearing.
You need me to get by!”

Where are all of Mary Jane's strains?
I need some more like them;
losing the embrace of my bud’s
and all’the broken stems.

All my buds have vacated me.
All that's left is Reggie
and Mid, who aren't like my kind buds;
they’re leaving me edgy.

I’m hanging with Mid and Reggie
hoping they'll come around
But now, even they’re gone, and I
have lost what was once found.

The strains of Mary Jane are gone.
I can't live without them!
I dream to see my bud's once more
and all’the broken stems.

Alone she weaves her tangled web
Twisting, tying, all amiss
and she sees not the darkened threads
that twine about her wrists.

A single light in a darkened room
one window one mirror, little sight
to the world outside her bower wall
Blurred separation between day and night.

Her head swirls with tangled threads
forgotten thoughts and anguish low
the monotony of a thousand days
left to weave and wind and sew

Sighs escape now from her lips
those ruby lips, once known by kings
now known to only lament and sobs
for what she lost in love-lorn pining.

"Faithless have I been, O father."
she breathes at morning prayers
as pearl beads slip through milk white hands
and dust hangs about the air.

When all is done, and mass is sung
she retires to her cell
once again to sew and weave
her rich and long, sad, tale.

First she finds the pale while thread
and then she finds the blue
And quickly, with her shaking hands
weaves the face she once knew.

She weaves the gown of green she wore
on the fated wedding day
and adds the flaxen hair he praised
When laced with the flowers of May.

At last she finds the golden thread,
but pauses, silent, the room a mess
she lays the golden spool aside
and kneels before the long locked chest.

With trembling hands, and gleaming eyes
she lifts the lid, on the life she once had
A rush of air and dust and mould
and feeling, at once, joyful and sad.

First she takes the bright blue gown
and then she takes the green,
finds the jewels her mother wore
it's all where it should have been.

Within the dusty corner dark,
the twilight fading, sun going down
she sees the gleam of gold once more
and takes from the depths her golden crown.

In the flickers of the candlelight
the jewels they sparkle once again,
And all the memories come rushing back
From childhood days to the kingdom's end.

Tears are falling from her eyes
when again she takes the golden thread
and reverently she weaves the crown
upon the figure's head.

At last she's cut the final string
and takes a step back from the frame
she sees her life before her eyes,
and feels the tears come again.

There Arthur stands, in kingly garb
His soft eyes staring back at her
and in his arms, her younger self,
she remembers, how happy they once were.

To her left stands Lancelot
his shining armor gleaming bright
his pleading gaze finds her again
with the love that turned to blight.

Between these two men she still stands
Two heros, once in brotherhood bound
She chose the Knight above absent King
and three hearts were trampled into the ground.

Memories swirl about her head
as she takes the knife flashing flint,
and drives the blade into the silk
Till every thread once whole, lies rent.