The threshold of the heart is worn, A path where many feet have pressed, And in the quiet, shadowed morn, The spirit seeks a final rest. To love is to invite the blade, To bare the pulse against the steel, And I have watched the colors fade From every wound I’ve had to feel. ​I cannot walk the burning floor, Or taste the salt of grief once more; The reservoir of tears is dry, Beneath an unremitting sky. The ghosts of all the "used to be" Still haunt the halls of memory, And every scar is like a map Of where the world began to snap. ​So if the choice is lose or stay, To watch the light dissolve to gray, I’d rather bridge the great divide And find the peace on the other side. For death is but a single blow, A sudden wind, a heavy snow, But living through the hollowed ache Is more than any soul should take. ​I’d give the ghost to keep the spark, To save us both from wandering dark, Because the phantom of the end Is kinder than a breaking friend. I will not watch the embers die, Or live within a whispered lie; To shield the heart from one more tear, I’d shed this mortal weight right here. ​I’ve paid the toll in blood and time, In every steep and bitter climb, And now the vault is locked and fast, Against the shadows of the past. To save myself from what I knew, I’d gladly lay it down for you.