ZOYA — Hold The Horizon

The sky was black, glass over the train yard,
Your name in my head like a small bright spark.
I watched the windows turn into rivers,
And every goodbye kept on drifting past.
I felt the floor move,
I felt the cold pull under my ribs in the quiet hour.
And you were still there, a light in the smoke,
A hand through the storm, a shape I could hold.
Hold the horizon,
Hold it with me; when the dark comes down and we can't see.
Hold the horizon, hold it with me; we were never lost,
Just learning to breathe.
The city fell away like a paper map, street by street,
Into shadow and rain.
I kept your echo in the back of my chest,
Soft as a wave that returns again.
Hold the horizon,
Hold it with me; when the dark comes down and we can't see.
Hold the horizon, hold it with me; we were never lost,
Just learning to breathe.
Maybe healing is not a straight line; maybe it starts through a broken sky.
Maybe we fall just to learn the shape of how to rise and stay alive.
So if the tide turns, and the ground gives way,
I'll meet you there, at the edge of day.
Hold the horizon,
Hold it with me; when the dark comes down and we can't see.
Hold the horizon, hold it with me; we were never lost,
Just learning to breathe.
Hold the horizon, hold it with me; past the falling night,
Into what could be.
Just learning to breathe.