And then, when all this did rain fall
And cover thee with a blanket of gray.
It shrouded and clouded a tender heart
That was tied, torn and sundered,
Then finally beaten and ripped apart.
But a glimmering spark, a mote of moonshine,
Waited and circled in the distance of your orbit.
The faintest of bright did glow in your sight
And reach deep to hold those pieces precious
With strong hands to mend and love with light.