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