Drift

The water in the stream
is threatening to split,
the undercurrent is mellow
but is threatened to bits

The evil divide
is the clipping
of its wings
the winged delight
is when its hassled in sync

The motion is circular
and the altercation
is for none to ignore
the current is mild
but the twister
is reaching to the mantle
and not just core ...

The sand castles have
long made way,
the dew melted them
and the sun
turned them into clay

The tress, the flowers,
the birds and the wind
are all searching
for answers
that are only ignited
by the wind

Where's the reason
for the defilement?
I'm just beginning
and they're asking me
to taste the sand

I'm gonna flow
drifting away
from right where I belong
to every where
they never though there'd be ways ...