A 1000 Paper Cranes

The morning rises

She finds herself

In the middle of a park

As the city awakes

A peaceful silence

It appears

A little rift within the lute…

Too calm, too bright

Then she turns and sees

A second sun today

A beauty in the sky

That wipes her own away

With wings too weak to rise

And prayer in her eyes

She is folding for her life

A thousand paper cranes

So she lies…

In dreams that become memories

The little life she has left clings to

An undying hope to be free again

With wings too weak to rise

And prayer in her eyes

She is folding for her life

A thousand paper cranes

And folding to survive

Her fate keeps her alive

To pacify our minds

By a thousand paper cranes!

Set free…