...
Spinning, spinning silver threads on nimble-minded fingertips
Spider-sewing her own fate, threads of destiny in an hourglass
Graciously she lets her fingers work, braiding on their own accord
Consciously she shelves her mind, gathering the forgotten time
Twisting, smoothing, sometimes mending little appearances
But truth always binds, always seeks the most of minds
And with her it gathers, slowly turning the spools full and fine
Softly with closed eyes, she mouthes the words she entertwines
Words like, "happiness, joy, pleasure, freedom, love, and peace"
She whispers in tiny little threads, hoping that all her prayers bind
But she knows fate and humanity best and listens to the whiskers fall
For as much as we seek to control our fate we cannot control the fate of all
And she can only mend, only twist and twirl in will in places hope is frayed
Because she isn't different than any other who seeks to make their own life-braid.
Her spinning wheel creaks and swirls, her hands merely twist and guide
Whatever thread she winds and binds will be weaved into a greater tapestry
Her mind is a simple wooden tower, her room has one window and bed
But rather than waiting for the fairytale to cross her path she weaves her own instead
Each thread holds but a simple dream, and simple thought, a simple being
And while she has the strength to spin for days she knows one day the yarn will end,
The spools will fill, and someone somewhere will have a needle to turn it into something more.
Spider-sewing her own fate, threads of destiny in an hourglass
Graciously she lets her fingers work, braiding on their own accord
Consciously she shelves her mind, gathering the forgotten time
Twisting, smoothing, sometimes mending little appearances
But truth always binds, always seeks the most of minds
And with her it gathers, slowly turning the spools full and fine
Softly with closed eyes, she mouthes the words she entertwines
Words like, "happiness, joy, pleasure, freedom, love, and peace"
She whispers in tiny little threads, hoping that all her prayers bind
But she knows fate and humanity best and listens to the whiskers fall
For as much as we seek to control our fate we cannot control the fate of all
And she can only mend, only twist and twirl in will in places hope is frayed
Because she isn't different than any other who seeks to make their own life-braid.
Her spinning wheel creaks and swirls, her hands merely twist and guide
Whatever thread she winds and binds will be weaved into a greater tapestry
Her mind is a simple wooden tower, her room has one window and bed
But rather than waiting for the fairytale to cross her path she weaves her own instead
Each thread holds but a simple dream, and simple thought, a simple being
And while she has the strength to spin for days she knows one day the yarn will end,
The spools will fill, and someone somewhere will have a needle to turn it into something more.