I sat by this curved stream.
I watched the waves and ripples gleam.
I saw it morph into a mighty fiend.
With no quality would it be redeemed.

What gave the water empowered might?
To cut, break, and bend is its right.
But when winter comes,
To the power of weather it succumbs.

Yet it's reign is not over.
Spring becomes its new lover.
It swells after winter,
And through the ground, it does splinter.

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