On a riverside
River meandering amongst the trees and wilderness
Do you ask yourself what you look for in the end?
Is it perhaps the time when you reach the ocean floor?
Or in just being you relive your past as ice and storms?
Tears in my eyes that carry the same mystery
Of what is their use if I am here alone with misery
It is unnecessary to call forth one’s own will or power
For the sun won’t rise this time in this final hour
Carried away in my vessel made of wood and splinters
With no care as to where I am meant to disappear
My mind simply a void or filled with nothingness
The substances doing their work, thoughts lost their spark
And I am left with a memory of that which once was
Michael Aquilina 22.08.2023