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28# RIVER'S JOURNEY
#WritcoPoemPrompt6
The river that flows down the hill,
Is never able to be a moment still,
The rocks and pebbles at it's edge,
Lie as steady as the dead,

Her flow is sharp like a sword,
Poor Rocks do not utter a single word.
they enjoy her fierce force with love
Never ask her to stop the flow,
A space to grow and glow.

Her water swiftly flow as if a jet
leaving behind her whitish net.
Through the trough and crest of river bed,
a symphony of roar emerges to spread.

As a young one she lives forever,
In mountains, in valleys as...