Walker-Floater

Broken, beaten down
Your wounds ethereal
They turn to wave
With smiles inflamed

It lies just off the shore
A dogma trivial
You'll never see the way they move
When tragic incantations all-consume
(Will you go?)

The truth, it rises over those
Who hold the fabric to the floor
The eye will never let you go
When needles stitch forever here.

You flee through flooded groves
Where conversations turn to how
The weather is so ripe for those
Of us who cannot stand the cold
What gives?

The truth, it rises over those
Who hold the fabric to the floor
The eye will never let you go
When needles stitch forever here.

Keep holding on
To the one thing
That gives you solace
And makes every little thing
Fade into shades of grey.
We'll be okay.. right?