The Silver Cord -

She’s bathed in her last chance to grow

Pulled the drain now her years start to shy

Vacuum of space she has become

Her voice has caused his worst mourning

Her waning moons met his as he rests her head and voiced a calm response

«We are all making mistakes until the mind believes

We are all making mistakes until the mind reprieves»

Wish the well dry in soiling conditions

Bait then release;

for life should not be sought to seek alone

He’s bathed in rainfall filled with woe

«Her ghost is young

It is mine that should have rised»

Vacuum of space we have become

Her voice has caused his worst morning

His waxing moons met hers as she wished him well and voiced a calm pardon

«We are all making mistakes until the mind believes

We are all making mistakes until the mind reprieves»

Wish the well dry in soiling conditions

Bait then release;

for life should not be sought to seek alone