Verse 1
She sits where the moonlight spills,
Silver hands on the loom of years,
Weaving dawn into twilight’s shroud,
One thread laughter, one thread tears.
Chorus
All the winters, all the springs,
All the hearts that dream and break,
She gathers the threads of everything,
And weaves them into fate.
Outro
(Ends on a suspended chord, leaving a sense of mystery.)