Drowning in calm storms, as the planes fly by

They will be alright flares in their hands

Windless seas scare more than rising waves

Crashing down in full pushing the outcasts on

But in the calm, the deserted drown

As they raise their hands to sky

In vain pleading with the flare in hand

Unable to pull the trigger to fire away

In fear of receiving the help that is near

In fear of being perceived as vain or insincere

Just another scare, in a sea filled with the impaired

So, they drown in the shallow water

Victims to a storm that never came but was consistently there