Sky in our hands, sand in our feet, we captured the essence of our most primitive dreams. And with bloody feet, each unbalanced step brought us closer to something we always knew, but couldn't explain--the gravity holding us back. Sky in our hands, sand in our feet, we captured the essence of our long gone innocence (before our lives we betrayed, lives betrayed). Upon no return I submit myself to this, as I gaze upon the semblance of clouds, throwing my arms back, and falling into the sea.
These hands will unfold what could have been told. We'll scream this struggle. And we fall astray, but these hands carry our weight and bring us all back home.
The sky is on fire. The black smoke dries my lungs. I'm finding comfort miles away, among these bodies, among these waters that carry my weight and clean my wounds.
I can feel the waters raging over me. I can feel one hundred breaths condensing on my skin. I can feel two hundred hands carrying me.