Tiptoe across the tightrope,
over the blasting waterfalls,
one step at a time
make it to the other side,
and all you're waiting to hear,
is the voice of someone dear
whisper,
"I'm proud of you."

The rope is wet,
and the air is cold,
the wind has picked up,
and you're losing your balance,
physically and mentally.
But you still want to hear,
that voice,
"I'm proud of you."

You're halfway there,
the spray from the water
is soaking into your skin,
and making you heavy.
The rope sags beneath your weight,
and you have this sinking feeling,
that you will never hear that voice
whisper,
"I'm proud of you."

One more step,
and you will make it,
you're so close to the land,
and you will be safe.
You take that step,
you're ears are searching,
for that voice to whisper,
But it never,
came.

No one was there,
only the echo of your thoughts.
And you realize you're alone,
and you fall,
with only the torrential waters and opaque rocks,
to catch you.
And as you fall you yell out,
Those words you've longed to hear for so long.

You hit the water,
and never return,
you'll never hear the voice
that shouted with you.
and now you'll never know,
that your dear one
yelled,
"I'm proud of you!"

But by then,
it was already too late,
and you're gone,
down under those dark rushing waters,
with the words
you never heard from them,
floating in your head,
during your final moments,
of life,
"I'm proud of you."