There is a river between me and the doing.

I am standing on water, surrounded by water,
I can see only water beyond the endless horizon.

I remember the way it began, It wasn't always the way it is
now.
The water was brought to protect me from others, defend me,
hide me from them.

I was very innocent then, I believed I could bring water to
surround me, and that will make me immune to all pain caused
by the outside,
So I filled my surroundings with water, to stop me from
telling and stop them from hurting, I closed myself as hard
as I could.

I was silent, I lived with myself, I lived as I could and as
what the road offered.
Where I walked I left nothing of mine behind me.
I couldn't open myself to others and I liked it that way.

Now its safe outside, its time to rise and show yourself.
But I am closed and can't get out, I am locked inside, and I
can't get out.
I hope I will find help from outside, a hand extended, a
bridge connected, a way for me to get out.

Waiting is long and no-one is coming, I hope there is hope
for me yet, maybe I'm doomed to stay, but at least in here
I'm safe.