Unforgiving
Her love was like a river,
unforgiving,
rushing wild and free,
and I, just and impulsive observer on her slope;
I pondered the thought of being caressed by her,
Being enveloped by her touch;
It all seemed so refreshing and innocent
From the safety of the brae;
Soon it no longer sufficed
merely to observe her beauty,
just to be near her.
Visits became more frequent
Until I waded into her water
And she rushed over me;
I was drawn deep into an eddy
To be forever swept away to a watery grave.
|