She’s more of a quiet bubbling stream, inviting and serene. Open to any who need a quick break or drink of cool water on their journey. If a traveler chooses to stay for a bit longer, to enjoy the peace and her songs, they will be wrapped in warm breezes and serenading lullabies. But the stream is humble and can’t supply a house, were the traveler to choose to build one on her banks.

Burn your insights,

Dim the city’s lights,

Where puddles reflect my frights.

Where the crowd dismisses the stagnant water.

A pitch consumes me.

Death is a tireless worker,

filling his daily quota.

He never pauses to rest

or stop, like an uneasy student

trying to pass a mathematics test.