It's a funny thing. Holds you tight, Makes you feel loose; Gifts you with knowledge, Only to steal it away.

That there is happiness That there is peace That there is joy But not in your heart. Oh! The games of grief.

Makes you hang on only to cut the strings That were turning into wings; In that moment of grief feel like chains.

Chains so tight drop tears in red.

Tears that will wash away What made you cry. The grief that cut you open Is just wanting to leave.

Leave you in peace.