Waters Dry

from the march of the ocean, through the dance of the day
the waters are enshrined, in all the words that i say
my heart is humble, my heart full and wide
through every moment i speak, through each and every divide
in this place, i do see, the divine tide of harmony and bliss
which seeks to remove all i find, in this moment of our time
all thought and memory, the weight of pain
the failed doubt that always comes back again
when all shadows seem lost, when each moment seems blue
wrapped inside the heartache, of yesterday's youth
i cannot see, by the waters that run on edge
to the shores of morning, to the coast of another day
when happiness was a beauty, and the thoughts of you
were far, far away, but as the waters run, the colors collide
breathe deep, relax, and release a moment, as ever was a sigh
in a sound, that through the wind, carries on with me
through the cities and streets, where once i knew your name
a confluence of magic and despair, in these waters
where no one ever dares, to call out your name
or to sing the words of love ever, to you once again
it is this place where the oceans march on
the tides that side with truth, the waters that run in the youth
of days and days on end, in the hours as waves
rolling on by, past tomorrow, to a place where even truth does, run dry