8.7 miles to the horizon.
Two days left now my mind is silent.
I guess I'm still not sure as to what I want.
Too many days, Too many things I've thought.
On the other side maybe that's where I should be.
But what if once I get there it's still not clear I still don't see.
There's something within me, something within my soul.
It wants to get out, find itself, then find it's way home.
I need something to fear, just so I can live a little.
But if it's the wrong thing, my soul, body, and mind become brittle.
The sun will shine down soon, then my mind will be clear.
But even then no help will be near.
I fear almost nothing, I'd like to believe I'm that strong.
But something in the wind calls my name, that something sends me along.
Opportunity will knock, and maybe eventually I'll catch on.
But what's the safest thing, where will I be it's a road that's long.
If I leave I'm not sure I'll come back.
Not because of my choice, but my life will be in someone else's hands.
If I do make it back it'll be for very few.
But those are the few that know, and I'd like to think that those are the few who understand and knew.
I don't know what to do anymore.
Someone pull me away from the wrong door.
Too late it's open I must go in.
I love you, I'll leave you, I'll die without you.