The River

He looked along the alien river,

His destination nowhere in sight,

Wondering if he had the strength,

To do what was right.

Stepping on to the boat,

Letting go of his fright,

He picked up the oars,

Gathering all of his might.

Rowing along the river,

Through the ebb and flow,

Often he called out to the water,

To find out what it knows.

Wily as the river was,

It replied as and when it pleased,

Asserting control over

The life it had leased.

Through the meandering path,

Incidents filled his life,

While some gave him joy,

Others were nothing but strife.

As the river mouth grew ever closer,

He paused and turned back,

He looked along the familiar river,

The beginning nowhere in sight.

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