Half way between start and end,
Staring into the waters that rushed below.
Where I had walked would be where I'd spend,
Taking my feet to where I'd go.
Too slow, too slow.
Toward the currents I am drawn,
Let it take my body away as I lose hold of mind.
The memories stored and ideas that were born,
Home they searched and never would find.
Behind, Behind.
On opposing sides it all would lay,
The safety and comfort of the drying land.
Yet the lapping and chopping of water away,
Pulls at the point at where I stand.
A hand, a hand.
Over edge of bridge into the swirl,
buried under the darkened waters deep.
The flags they waved would never unfurl,
as silence of all begins its creep.
To sleep, to sleep.
Taraz
[ a Steem original ]