#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,

Who knows but the one from which it flows, the one who calls into account every soul.

If the pebbles and rocks lay still are they dead or doing what the creator said, to be the BreakWater for the restless soul.

Constant flow doesn't necessarily mean...