The River's Lyrics
Though they thought it didn't matter,
fate would soon decry its loss,
those who stroked the raven's wing,
cushioned by the verdant moss.
They who spun the silken fibers,
iridescent shades of blue,
molten silver coursing downward,
hissing through the morning dew.
He whose gray eyes knew their essence,
he who flew on velvet wings,
when the final toll was taken,
wrote the lyrics rivers sing.
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