Sunlight piercing through, words marking the carpet.
You said you were missing some roots.
Dull as the moment, she talked too much.
I was gunning for a joke or two.
You're not an island, but during high tide
I took a night ride and the ocean ate me up.
Sunlight piercing down, it was quiet in the town
as I drowned right into you.
Words marking the contract, you had
a moment to contemplate. The template remained
feeling unfulfilled. Was it God's will
or was the desperation shining through?