Water I am,
The last preservation of civilization.
You are the agonies-
Of cold fire, factories, war and development
Entrapped within the riverine map.
That I get burn
When I make way to touch you.
Corpse float, towns sink
And the history cracks out.
I'm the stocker,
You are the debtor.
One day your appearance is burnt
Due to sin munched from niggardliness.
I'm not the tide-
A scorched stream,
Like a secret cave, awaited.
One day, you'll return too
In the form of ashes of civilization.
