The River

So violent it seduces travelers,
In coming near the water's edge, too close.
For once they're near, the water starts to churn,
And as they slip into that great abyss,
They curse themselves for falling through the trap.
So ever inescapable that death,
Ironic in the time of brand new life.
That beauty so disguised as roses red,
We notice not how it may go so soft,
And yet we see our own dull mindedness,
The pois'nous water screams as it draws near.
We vigilantly must prepare ourselves,
For Satan, clothed benignly as a sheep,
We can resist as trav'lers can the riv'r.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem