River
Starting slowly, collecting drops by drops,
It’s beautiful as it seems,
It rushes through the land,
Breaking all points,
But powerful and strong,
Dragging the objects with the flow,
And breaking them into pieces as it goes,
Sometimes I wonder,
What keeps moving the river,
And if it will ever stop rushing,
I get the answer when I see the end of the river,
It stops at this point,
Merging into a vast sea,
Becoming bigger than self.
It flows through my eyes,
It fills my head with all those thoughts,
They were always soft and pure,
They pour in millions of pieces,
Combined into one mighty stream,
Finding bigger than self.
Copyright © poemtheart poemtheart | Year Posted 2024
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