driftwood

Grinding down the edges of the blade (for security) Compressing all expressions into grey (in my apathy) Striving for the wind or after dreams (it's all vanity now) In that place the pain lasts for years (and the peace only hours) Sometimes there's beauty in the weeds (and there's sin in the flowers) The surface is an easy place to swim (but you'll eventually drown) If you drift with the tide, Is there proof of your life? I went foraging for favor in their eyes (pulling all my roots out) Reaching for the truth, receiving lies (tore memorials down) Burnt off my fingerprints to hide (what I threw to the crowds) Barely perceiving the danger, Freely receiving the rage And if all I can feel now is anger, Then there's something still left to be saved If you drift with the tide, Is there proof of your life? Tried to drift through and restrain All the multitudes I contain In the dark, in the depth I will fill my lungs with Your breath, And I will rise With the proof of Your life From this death I will rise No longer underneath, now I can fully breathe This constant fear of danger has let go Drifter, lift up your head Swing wide your anchored doors To the One who gives rest And be free (And be free) I'm longing for solid ground No harbored complacency I'm desperate to be found From all of my hollow pleas The stillness, it makes a sound At last, I can finally see Wash me back upon the shore