IT'S ALL ME

Stumbling blindly to the river by the rock,

There he would lay down his hurting heart.

Everything he touched, he watched burn,

So, he leaned briefly on the river rock.

“Stop.” A voice said, an angel with his blade outstretched.

“If you have the power to kill me, put me out of my misery.”

Pushing the blade out of the way he pushed toward his watery grave.

“Leave.” The riverbank said.

“If you can drown me, drown my sorrow instead.”

Walking beyond the riverbank, he dipped one foot in the water.

Expecting a complaint, he paused.

Getting none, he dipped his second foot.

Trudging though the shallow side to the depths of the river.

He stood on dry land.

Astonished, he looked down,

For he was certain that a moment ago he had stood in the waters.

Sad and downcast he sat on the sand,

Walled in by pillars of water in which he could not drown.

For, for all the misery in his heart today was not the day he would not depart.