Cisma

Slowly through the cracks

Drop by drop

Over the marble, tapped

Straight down from the top

Unaware of where it heads

Flow slow, learn more about the stone

Oh this one was destined for the beds

Who hadn’t known?

These rocks fostered none

Let none in, did no harm

Yet for the stream, a path he made

Led, her hands in his palm

“till the end”, he swore

Another lie she chose

For, another year he bore

Just another pose

And then the stream met the ocean

And promised she’d be back

But amidst all she desired

One was meant to leave another crack

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