The sea of atlas

Through wires and waves, our voices carry
Such careful words that we can barely speak out loud
We found an ocean when we needed land
We drowned in words when we needed a hand
So we plead for night, and the sun keeps on spilling light

There's a fine line, a fine line in between
Our progress and our instability
We can't help ourselves but hunt for more
A design flaw? or the olive branch that proves the shore
The catalyst we've waited for

We live and die under the thumb of fear
As though the finish line will merely disappear
If we take one less step, even to catch our breath

We once felt safe, like no cure was needed
Our vocabularies had no room for defeated
But we grew up quick and became connoisseurs of it

There's a fine line, a fine line in between
Our progress and our instability
We can't help ourselves but hunt for more
A design flaw? or the olive branch that proves the shore
The catalyst we've waited for