Feels like a thousand years ago
when we made our plans,
not carved into stone,
but etched in the grass
We thought it would be enough
but what's permenant?

Now I'm sitting afloat in the ocean
trying to empty my prolific mind
as as pessimism flows out my ears,
I feel a tad more relaxed

And maybe now you understand the purpose
of my slience-
working up the courage to stay stoic and brave
I never wanted us to diminish
just to settle above or below the waves

Don't leave me behind
but you know any effort now
is too little too late
I know I sent out a warning,
but that light in the lighthouse
is sure growing dim

Everything I say
is used as a weapon against me
This is why I'm better off
not saying anything at all