She walked by the river,
The stones on its bank were wet..
Heart was the same,
Remembering the name..
...
She stood there staring down the staircase,
Waiting for smile to step up her face..
Her open hair mixed with the place darkening,
With a little hope of a future shining..
...
She
She walked by the river,
The stones on its bank were wet..
Heart was the same,
Remembering the name..
That spoke her identity...
Her sad eyes were on the passing time..
Passing.. Like the flowing river,
that made impressions with evry touch!
Remembered and said to herself..
The wet touch will evaporate dry,
like pains heal with sheer try...