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.