Welcome to Gaia! :: View User's Journal | Gaia Journals

This river runs warm
Though its waters chill all.
The bloodied liquid rushes
Among the rocks.
It sprays and colors
The stream's banks
Red as the blood
Of those dead
At its cavernous mouth.
The red river flows endlessly
Down its path.
Straight as an arrow
Yet bent and uneven.
Beneath the surface
Our souls race.
Swiftly now, make haste.
To the sea of the dead,
We shall follow this rapid,
Down, down,
Into the depths...