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The Architect

from To Quell My Spirit by A Cold Spark

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lyrics

In the fall, she would dig to follow his strict rules
For plotting out two-hundred square on holy unmolested lands
Every evening she would sweat, so she cut her long black hair
Though she loved each strand, it was not a loss
So long as she saw dirt clear

Even with her expertise, she could not foresee the earth
Splitting intent solely for her
As the space between fault lines swallowed her life's work

In the winter, she walked on, eager shovel still in hand
But the sight of her failure in the distance disquieted her fresh campaign
Every morning the workman agreed to build with silvered hair
Yet some months in she lost sense to the torn ground
Running leagues from their stock back to her start

He chased with, "think of everything we've made."
"The deed would not be worth its ink," she turns
Inciting his best blade, bent on cutting her down
She outdraws him and the snow sews his red quilt
Then she protests, "Will I trade further blood for brick?"

In the springtime, she took road, abandoning her quarry
She encountered every manner of beast and highwayman
Firm against her passage
She would stop at merry inns and keep her joy till morning
By the next day she did naught but yearn still for his first design

Though she seemed content to roam
Her swiftly graying hair betrayed her true heart to our lot:
"Knowing now I need no home
Why then still to this day do I think of him?"

In the summer, she would teach, with countless queries past her
In this practice only one started her, a girl, hair black against her white
"He would only disapprove," met with:
"To hell with what the dead think
He will not be resurrected, and so to what end have you been acting?"

The architect's rekindled plan has been drawn by different hands
Neither woman needs the other, yet the house goes twice as far
Yet they both are better for their labor

credits

from To Quell My Spirit, released September 24, 2015

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