#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,
But still it sings a ceaseless song,
In currents swift, it races long,
Its path unknown, it twists and bends,
A journey that never truly ends.The wind it carries, soft and low,
The whispers of where it longs to go,
Yet bound by earth, it rushes by,
A restless soul beneath the sky.
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