The river enquires the water to the lake.

The act is a mass exodus.

It's moving to the absolute end.

Impossible to return.


The river is too narrow

water to live.

And yet it's river's job

to facilitate the move.

From desperate situation

to hopeful,

so purgatively the river handles water.



The volumnes of the waves                                 and



The river knows; listen,


there's no walls.


The loch has patience to waite.

It has smelted his apeshit in the rain.

If a panic attacks,

do know there's a glassy lake with peacful space.


Afterwards, when floating afloat,

you look all with the new eyes.


The sad things drowned, you didn't, in the water.

The sympathy you feel, is real.

Despite of the blood's thick,

you are not forced to drink wine,

especially if the drink is sick.



In the lake movements join together.

Be strong and brave

is not a synonym for the hard and shame.

Together the loch mirrors sunlight better.