I woke up to watch the moon rise,
to soak in these last moments I feel alive.
Every breath a criticism from charcoal lungs,
the cycle goes on and on.
Now I don’t look at the ocean with the enthusiasm I once did,
but the calmed tide is a perfect mirror and I’m falling into the sky.
Defying gravity just as I would defy this undefined perception of life.
To the bottom we fall, from the depths we rise.
I have seen inside my mind, and it’s the only thing that seems real.
I looked into my soul and my hair stood on end as I met the future version of myself.
He talked about how the trip in the coffin was painful and odd;
he climbed in and, in one moment, lost all consciousness.
And once more I ask myself to save myself,
but that request just won’t relay from end to end.
It’s happening for the first time again,
it just won’t end. It just won’t end.
Fragmented bones remain under skin so frayed.
My pen has run dry and the last of my paper crumbled away, but for this one sheet that alone holds your name.
This is the start and the end of the mariner’s symphony.
It just won’t end. The melody just won’t end.
And then the end of the hymn begins.
Refrain.
I can’t get far enough away from here to see the picture so clear.
If I painted with all of the colors would the picture be evident? Or would it resemble the end we all so much fear?
The calmed tide is a perfect mirror and I’m falling into the sky.
To the bottom we fall, from the fathoms we climb.
Bare your teeth and begin the journey home.
Every breath is a stark criticism of this life.
And the cycle goes on and on and on and on and on and on…