Run with the rivers,
Haste passion.
Where your heart beat's muffled,
And your lover's sighs turned empty hums.
Flow with the stream,
Careless wonder.
While the pins on your muscles,
The pull between your brows,
Relax into pitied darkness.
A dark night with the stars,
Without a moon to guide,
Hold little wonder to the belittling eye.
This darkness between the rivers, the stream,
Pull at your soul's trafficking seam.
The thread of your binding,
Unwinds its precious hold,
Trailing behind you
Down the stream, so the story told.
When it's nothing more than a pile
Floating eternally behind you.
The river will cease.
The stream will turn cold.
And you will be nothing more than a rock,
Added to hell's capturing fold.
