Set him free,
free to fly,
lose yourself in return.
Forget the pain,
though scars still ache,
Lose your heart--
send him away.
"He doesn't want you!"
they scream, they scream;
"Just forget him!"
say the voices in your head.
One finger loosens,
the palm untightens,
but still one string lingers on.
"Let go-- it's obvious,
he doesn't care!"
cries that reach straight
through your tears,
but still it lingers, lingers on.
Hope, small and frail,
but still pulsing through
the last strand.
Do you cut it off?
Do you draw it in?
For what is hope but
foolishness, most would say.
But deep down, way down,
far in the depths you know
You would find the truth:
Where hope lies,
no matter how frail,
giving up only destroys the holder,
and that which is held.
Forgive, forget, move on--
grow, love.
Love conquers all.
That's what is said sometimes,
by people who've never loved.
Oh, but that last strand...
that last strand holds the hope
for love.
So hold on-- be patient! Be patient!
He's worth the wait,
no matter what the voices say.
Don't give up--
don't let go.
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