The water cascades down the wall,
Into the basin of the floor--
Reaching its destination before departure.
The air filled once more with life,
The gentle rising of the steam,
Condensed vapor pouring from
The barren earth below its feet.
A cycle continued through
Generation as it carves a path,
Makes what was hard, easy,
Improbable, probable and
Unattainable, within grasp.
The life of everything,
The fuel to the world\'s furnace.
The plaything of God\'s,
The conqueror of mankind.
The liquid state of God himself--
When do you sleep?
A delicate balance atop an endlessly
Growing needle ascending to the sky,
But never a drop is wasted by
Self-destruction, but influence by
Those whose greed has wrought forth
The judgement of God himself--
Ripped through the delicate balance
For self gain and proclaimed to the world--
“We can do it better.”
Simply because, we could.