Was dying.
It's rocky bones slowly being exposed.
It's noise growing ever weaker.
The life it once produced,
Now missing and dispersed,
It's inevitable fate,
Now becoming just Earth.
It lead to a fall,
Which roared with life one before,
Made little more than a whisper,
Now it's nothing to adore.
The river was calm despite what it faced.
For it knew that something was to take it's place.
It took note of the small animals that we're dancing through it,
It spotted little a green leaf,
Running right through it.
The middle of the river,
Now lesser than a stream,
Slowed to a halt,
So new life can feed.
Nothing but puddles remain,
No matter how hard it rains,
The river will never be as it was,
For it's time was now done.
"Let be what cannot change,
for it will not for you."
YOU ARE READING
Scribbles
PoetryWelcome to my mind and the story which is unfolding in it. If you see one you like, Vote for it! It helps me know which one you are enjoying to read and will help me hone my writing for what you prefer to see! Thank you for looking Cover art by: @Lu...
