Sometimes the river splits as it flows
Even when you think you'd move evermore as one,
dreams afire, will unbreaking,
united.

The river splits as it flows
not to brackish waters,
not to ocean's mouth nor sky's arms,
divided, not long.

Ancient are what live in space,
in water, in sky, in darkness, and light --
small parts of fate:
a fish that swims
a hand that reaches
a heart that wants
a current that grows
rushes
and
takes;
a shadow
that whispers
and
waits

Air once shared you gone like itself,
and where it spoke rallied thunder
a city braving your memory for one most loved.
Just as hysteria grew from worry and stabbed,
a rain of bombs thrown by one who swore to protect
us
once

Eyes closed I see it still, a knight with dreams of finding right
Left with, 'I will build it here one night'
And build he did, and so I was proud,
quiet
cherished once a friend
in silence
even as wolves ate
and in crisis was revealed
to carry hate

The river split as it flows
and perhaps we tried to run against it,
once,
twice,
more,
for we are Hashan.
You were.

What begins a small current, grows
into a force immovable --
like Darkness existing
a shroud of trying, always trying,
going, moving, flowing, pushing --
unyielding.

And while we watch those taken away by rivers split,
we move, we swim,
fly,
try,
grow.
Live.

Penned by my hand on the 8th of Mayan, in the year 984 AF.