The River

My playmate with whom I cried terrific,
Is sorrowful as her mate is for reasons
many; Upon a time she beamed with joy,
her milk white cloak with silvery linings 
shined and sullenness was just a story.

Scary she never was, a seductress
when seasons switched, silent and
sleepy, sounded melodious when she
sung from her soul. The sands where
I sat to share and smile at our snippets
skipped several beats.

Seeing her shapeless and ferocious,
Years after our confluence, shedding
tears of agony she spoke, only sobs 
were heard.

Published by rekhashivam

Reading and writing is my passion. Philosophy, gender, Fiction, Mystery,Education, Thriller,I prefer these genres. But I must admit I am not a prolific writer. Just that I want to express and feel myself. Honest comments are heartily welcome.

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