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There is a river,
A river of sorrow,
Dark memories, pain,
Hate, and black rain.
Down this river flows lost souls,
So many sighs and sorrowful moans,
Tears so dry and hearts so cold,
Painful screams and dreadful groans.
Memories had from love of the past,
All forgotten quick and fast,
For there is no room for happiness and joy,
When your heart is treated like an old used toy.
Mourning for lost ones close and dear,
Bring the pain of every tear,
Death of Murder, illness, and age
Bring upon newborn rage.
Images of blades run through their head,
Memories of wishing they were dead,
So much blood and tears were brought,
Just let it end, they all thought.
Left alone in solitude,
Gave them their present attitude,
Not trusting anyone, no one at all
Led them to make their big fall.
In this horrid place is where I walk,
For they drew my shape with a stick of chalk,
I had a vision of this all,
A vision of my great fall.
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I sit here waiting,
With cherry blossoms dancing above my head,
Listening to the whispers of the past;the gentle wind,
Looking up to the sky,
The sunset above my shoulders,
Pondering,
About the time to come,
What will be next?
I stand,
Ready to take my leave,
And A figure comes before me,
I have found what I was searching for.
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