There lives a river that never gets old
She flows so naturally with ease
Carrying the past, present, and future
Harbours none than the favours of her labour
But she sold her proceeds
For nothing but folded truth,
She’s now the slave of the hands she feeds
She chooses to swallow flattery
& disdain from those who make her feel so little,
& this is the water she’s endured
Yet they are because of who she ever will be.
If consistency was a being,
No one would deserve the title than her
For she’s the only heir to permanence.
She unites the strength of the world
She should be the proud
But she chose to live in denial.
She’s not a sorcerer but
She can wake the dead from their slumber
And force the world to a blackout
If she desires
But this truth she knows,
She’s the Angel surrounded by devils
& a river with water of two tastes.
Photo by Megan Ruth from Pexels
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