Her needle being heldCrooked fingers destroying their work.Stiched together the crescent moon to its falling starsThen somewhere farther down, it wasGently lay a broken newbornCradled back and forth, in attemptBeing loved lead to a deserted mindTreasured moments must be markedTied to her was a nameDizzily she wandered farther and farther awayLosing collision with the groundHer decaying hands...