The river running fast and harsh
Swollen by the rains,
Tore against the banks.
In all her fury hurled in smashing
White water, failed to cut
The stone that penned her in.
This ancient fence of grays,
Yielded little to its carver.
In her persistence, unnoticed
Stole a piece of rugged bank
Through the years.
Her toil turned to sand that
lay beneath the place
she run.
RAW
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Author:
RAW (
Offline) - Published: September 5th, 2022 12:52
- Category: Spiritual
- Views: 16
Offline)
Comments1
Lovley. I can hear the image
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