She sings in riddles. She writes in phrases.
But what if all these words were empty vases?
From shadows to sunshines, mystery is unveiled.
And she dances to the simple.
She hopes in numbers. She remembers in story.
And the yesterday and the tomorrow become a faded glory.
From muck and sackcloth, hope prevails.
And she stands on a rock in the middle of a dark place.
She breathes in desperation. She exhales a jaded fear.
And she clings to a truth that is forever near.
From weary to different, peace calms.
And she breathes.
She breathes.
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