I trail by the river—
A ribbon of free spirit,
Conceived by the wind;
It does as it pleases.
I stop by the lake—
A parabola of breathless water,
Motionless and transfixed
Till the surge arrive.
I am a lake
Numb and brimmed with Love;
I will drown myself
In the reflecting bowl—
Until I am hungover,
And the aftertaste of heartache begins,
I will flee like a river
From the source.
A ribbon of free spirit,
Conceived by the wind;
It does as it pleases.
I stop by the lake—
A parabola of breathless water,
Motionless and transfixed
Till the surge arrive.
I am a lake
Numb and brimmed with Love;
I will drown myself
In the reflecting bowl—
Until I am hungover,
And the aftertaste of heartache begins,
I will flee like a river
From the source.





Join the Discussion
This article has 8 comments. Post your own!