"The Silence Is So Loud"
Floating along the mountains, just above the ground
Soaring high, seeing, feeling and flying
The silence of wind so ******* loud
Falling down suddenly, what a rude awakening
But we do not wake, we just quietly stare
At the ground growing closer
Knowing we will not splatter here
Sometimes wishing it so, just for the exposure
Exposure of our fearless mind, so terrified
Not of the rise or fall, as we know them well
Afraid of our weakness, and that our fear might be verified
That we might let go, forgetting we're under a spell
We allow our rise to continue and soar without regard
And do not consider the descent we know is coming
Wind bustling our ears muffling the thoughts we continuously disregard
For the rise is beautiful, like flying and dancing
The high is absolutely thrilling, we can no longer think clearly
We try to stay with the energizing adrenaline, we try to gain composure
Yet, we grow weary
So here comes the free fall, watch the ground grow closer
And we begin to beg ... for a level head to rest in our cave.
Oh the great highs and the terrible lows. A level head is all we crave...
I'd rather I didn't know. I'd give anything to not understand the highs and lows of emotion and thought. Call it bi-polar, cyclothymic disorder, mood swings, whatever... Nonetheless, it's terrifying, beautiful, and the silence is so loud.
