#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,

The waters in haste to reach a nest
is never able to find a rest
but constant rush towards its end
the destination non has ever comprehend

Countless rivers have run same course
we're never able to say if its bless or curse
a journey to rest which always ends billow
as they struggle on shingles as if a pillow

Life's like river flowing down the hill
where we're never able to come with our will
yet must follow a course only set by fate
with no moment of peace until late
© fimihandj