this is the coldest ground I've ever slept on 

it is the wind that tells me to keep 

my hands grabbing at the rock 

it is the wind that whispers the last lie 



but all that I felt was love and grace 

all that I see here is just haze 

is it you that I'm talking to? 

or your ashes? 



but then again a trial for my being pure 

the beauty that I sang was never mine 

yet I sang for him and for her 

and my lashes 



Mother, 

that was the hardest cloth I've ever woven 

you should've told me what would come out 

of the love I've learned to fear 

this is the shortest night I'll ever live 



						     



						     Thanks to Ray