She wore his perfect hollow ring upon her finger
The void that it enclosed would not be known.
They say that life will travel out of cycle
Haloing a diadem of stone.
Fixed center traveling 'round the distance
Rounds unsung by children in her head.
Wheels of churning out anticipation
Trapped in orbit till the lie is dead.
Fellowship of brokenhearted can't contain her
When she shines the light of day upon the moon.
Surround surreal suspicion in its orbit
And wrap her heart in spirals gone too soon.
She wore his perfect hollow ring upon her finger
The void that it enclosed would not be known.