The brook keeps babbling away,
Telling the stones to hold their tongues,
The water to slow down for a bit,
For these days are long
and the nights feel ever so empty,
Daisies have craned their necks over the sides
Hoping to befriend whatever breathes below,
And the brook babbles away,
Telling all the secrets that sailed its spine,
As they pass by the banks
And wave goodbye to those still standing

It has two kinds,
One, does not end - a perennial wait for you;
One, bound in a moment - wrapped in your embrace

People don't realize the damage they've caused until they open their eyes and see the ashes of what once was and the fires burning what will never be again