The river of woe


I walk alongside a river,
its beautiful in its serenity,
its my favorite place to roam.

One false step is all it takes to fall in,
into frigid waters, the current I'm immediately caught up in.

Faster and faster, deeper and farther from where I was before,
I can barely see the shore.

I know at the end lies a watery grave,
destruction the likes of which I've never known.

The river speaks in whispers,
tells me not to fight,
that everything would be alright.

I can't be calm, I start to swim,
trying to break through the multitude of waves,
the river carries me deeper into unknown territory.

I will not drown here all alone,
I will fight harder than I have ever done.

Every ounce of strength goes into fighting for land,
I will not succumb to death by the water's end.

At long last my hand connects with a welcomed branch,
able to pull me back to safety, from this dreaded death match.

Away from harm, watching the river start to slow,
the whispers have gone too, why I do not know.

Maybe I walked to close, admiring the beauty,
but how do you walk beside a river and not risk the chance of falling and losing control?

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A would be double meaning

View clutchforbalance's Full Portfolio
Beavis's picture

Nicely done.

Good writing.