A crystal tear rolls upon a stone face,
Out of time, out of place,
In a room full of stone people,
Under the heavy weight of an oppressive stone steeple.

Once a flower bloomed amidst a forest of rock,
Now bound by freedom’s darkling lock,
Straining, struggling to burst free,
To reach you, and to reach me.

Across a dark room of stone people,
Two flowers, two crystal tears shine under a stone steeple,
Pondering their way through the dark gloom,
To find an opening in this dark tomb.

Then that’s just the way the story goes,
How it ends, nobody knows,
A crystal tear cascading down a stone face,
Out of time and out of place, yet holding high indefinite grace.