• Life is a river,
    It flows and halts for no one.
    But what befalls the fate of the stones it erodes and leaves behind,
    The stones wait under the decomposing flow,
    for that part of the stream to come back, knowing it won't,
    But the river carries parts of them that they don't desire any other thing to have.
    So those lonely stones stay in that same spot,
    Until the rest of the river brings them to nothing,
    the river will never realize,
    How the stones felt,
    Because no one ever believed a stone could feel,
    When it flowed away with parts of them,
    And how long they lingered for them to come back,
    So they wait under the flow,
    Each second eroding a fragment.
    Thinking that this river would change direction,
    to head toward where they lay,
    Changing to nothing,
    Only a memory left of what there used to be.
    Don't try to remember.