There is a river passing through me.
While it rages and roars,
It threatens to take from me my very soul
and leave me with nothing more.
But in that river lay gold,
and that gold might levy life
robbed from me by birth.
I only hope
with dwindling spirit
that the river never dries
and perhaps it might
YOU ARE READING
Lines
RandomA mess of stuff that won't fit elsewhere. Some are pretty absurdist, no direct continuity unless stated (doubtful on that, these are meant to be one-off poems/stories). I like to explore different styles of writing in small works like this, so some...
