Don’t go chase
It.

Don’t force
It.

Wait for
It.

Water runs
In a river beautifully,
From a faucet,
Empty.

It streams down,
Like crystal life.

Leading to a desert,
Arid, dry.

There is no one
There,
Still.

Just the memory,
Of something
Not meant,
To be real.

Are you afraid
To be seen?
With me…
Taking a hand,
Leading somewhere
New.

If you take this one,
Please be true.