Boneflower Saltpeter
There is a treasure buried down under an island. You never tell where to find it cause the past makes your heart feel sad for moments you would have never had. But from time to time, you allow the hunt to start, knowing the wooden chest is covered in saltpeter and its iron is rustier than a horseshoe, fragile as thin glass
Starting to read your insecurities and masked weaknesses as if it was a map, knowing the red cross is far, the journey through water will be worth the time passed. Lungs full of hope that the box is filled with pure gold but tired of the fact that the tide goes up and down
Making sure it's not an easy quest to dig the shovel and realizing it will be fully hidden once again the morning after. People have limited patience
And you know it better than anyone. So, after these last sunsets, if I find your treasure, don't force me to throw it off board, for I've lost many things (but none of them thus far will ever feel so close to losing everything)
Hey, nothing feels the same. Without you, nothing feels the same
