Upon a hill, above a town
A young girl sits, her head bowed down
Asking "when will it cease, this troubled time?"
And leave her land in peace
And in the spring, before their power
Into hear hair she weaves the flowers
And with open hand, she walks her land
Her destiny to find
It is arranged, the plans are set
Into a warring clan she's wed
She's a human bridge to stop the flow
Of blood upon their fields
With summer sun, she wears a crown
Her maidens dress now a foreign gown
And it's her body she lays down
She's a weaver of peace
But war returns, again and again
One battle claims her family's men
Sons, husband, brothers, father, all
To each other swords they fall
With autumn wind upon the pyre
She weaves their arms before the fire
To set them free her sole desire
She's a weaver of peace
And with the snow she takes her leave
To heal herself she sits to weave
A tapestry her tale to tell
And give her grief to time
Her long hair shorn as golden thread
She weaves a story of her dead
That those who see may choose peace instead
She's a weaver of peace