Continue on my journey, a bridge coming to.
Crossing over a bleak river, to lead where? I never knew.
Following the stone bridge, looking into murky waters.
Seeing a reflection to which the ripple slaughters.
Stopping at the edge, bending over the low wall,
Gazing through faded thoughts, making me feel small.
When the ripples fade away, and I look in search of my face,
Instead I see my brother, the source of my long chase.
A shine in those familiar black eyes, shining like dark rounded coins,
But not a smile does he wear, nor does a look of joy join.
Instead a face of slightly paled, skin young and plump.
Once lively features now darkened in a slump.
My eyes widen and so does his, as I peer in closer,
Only to realize that the water's creating my reflective poser.
As I drag my black eyes away from the murky view,
I look ahead to the end of the bridge, scattered in evening dew.
Though I wish to cry, I remain silent and go on,
My legs moving mechanically, the river soon gone.
Yet, I think back to it's murky waters once again and my thoughts scream loud,
"But did the rush and waves of the river ever make a sound?"
YOU ARE READING
Quiet Us
Mystery / ThrillerA list of lines that line with lists of clues to find to solve the gist. This is a story I wrote, made out of poems. The story itself is truly a mystery, and I ask you to go along with the main character as you discover his backstory, the adventure...
