Gossamer

Swaying on the edge of the Earth
The spider's spun her web
Across panes of sullen glass
An ashen face torments this place
Where the body's laid to rest
Where the angels strike us down
Birthing a new life

So, so slow
So fleeting

Still, in the pace of the wake
This life, a series of deaths and tragic ends
Her sallow face torments the place
Where her warmth once left a trace
Then the angels took her hand
Returning her to Earth

So, so slow
So fleeting, now
Some come and go too swiftly

For all the writing hands
And games we trade amidst the plains here
For all the pause and play within the maze
We trade at will here
In memoriam, she reaps fields strewn in gossamer
In immortal halls her pain will cease to be
To be

Swaying on the edge of the Earth
The spider's spun her web
In corners unconcerned
An ashen face torments the place
Where the body's laid to rest
Where the angels guide her down

And give her peace again
And finally full breaths