My thoughts in a mess,
Deep in my soul, I feel dread.
Dread of what's to come.
I know I should listen.
Yet, all I want is to watch you.
It is not that I don't trust,
I do trust you, sister.
Its drifting us apart.
The moon calls again;
this time I know,
It wanted you, not me.
The moon's calling,
finally begins to skip,

Deep in my soul, I feel dread,
Dread of what's to come.
a persistent beckon into its domain.
