Driftwood Dreams Fade to Gray

The tide rolls in, it whispers low. An old man sits where time

won't go. His hands are maps of years gone cold. Driftwood dreams,

they fade to gray. Who I was just slips away.

The sea don't care, the sea don't stay. The waves hum

songs of what could be. But I am bound to memory. A nameless ghost

beneath this tree. No footprints left, no stories told. The water swallows

all it holds. Am I the sand or am I stone? Driftwood dreams,

they fade to gray. Who I was just slips away. The sea