WRITE THE WORLD REVIEW ARCHIVE

I am an instrument in the shape
of a river...
under the blue sky,
till the day I die.
Blow soft breeze blow
I’ll carry your dreams
when I flow,
to my master whose name
echoes in wave breaks,
engraved on white pearls,
resounding in every ripple,
mighty but light.
Glow my firefly glow,
enlighten my path of dusk,
I’ll sing to you when I flow,
to my master,
who crossed in the bridge in dawn,
shedding the evil wings
of the phoenix of desire and avarice...
Slow and slow I’ll flow,
call my name in need,
I’ll be there indeed,
at your side as a catcher of dream,
keeping the dark at bay.
To the west, to the north I’ll flow
in starry nights,
over the ridges, under the arches,
not reverse, the river marches...