Strange to start with
stranger once again
Between the shores estranged
flows a river
of passions faded
At some bend,
from a certain mountain,
a careless brook once hurtled
down an uncertain cheer
Over the years of being
together and separate
The two shores lived
a river of their own
Now legally separate,
emotionally disparate,
trying hard, deliberate
to nurse some hate
Running parallel
even when unmoving
Going somewhere distant
even when still here
Will someone tell them,
the spring of love even if dried
and perhaps dead
The river of memories
will keep them enjoined
for a lifetime
How long does a river flow,
how many years more
before the water is finally
under the bridge?
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