Brimming with water, the river was.
Flowing over marshy tracks and dirty sides.
Yet, it kept itself clean and pure, with swift flow, leaving the accumulated behind.
Spilling water, here and there, leaving it’s trace, everywhere.
The river flowed, never to stop, never to look behind.
Every rock that came it’s way, it hit the rock harder.
Every fish that survived in it, it gave the fish more life.
For every now and then,
Everything that hurt it, was hit harder.
Everything that gave it a reason to move faster, was given more life.
It flowed, aimlessly towards something that would give it eternal solace.
Little did the trespassers know, the river needed only a sea to drain into.
She was the river.
She wished, he was her sea.


8 thoughts on “Brimming.”

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