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