She wove her dream-web, a mystery veil
With which to shroud her soul;
She felt in her core that her scars glowed pale,
So hiding them was her goal.
She couldn’t know that the threads would trap
Her heart inside their maze,
Or understand that the mystery cap
Hid much more from others’ gaze.
So now she has the arduous job
Of fraying all the threads;
With every snap, there is born a sob
As knots relinquish beds.
And oh! the terror in her inmost heart
As web lays down its toll;
To live without strings is a brand new art,
And it will bare her soul…