A Row down the River of Tears

My sister loves to row down the river of tears.

She rows on the wailing cries

She rows on the wailing cries of the lost souls that have

She rows on the wailing cries of the lost souls that have past through the years.

She rows in the midst of fog

She rows in the midst of fog when the outcome is unknown

She rows in the midst of fog when the outcome is unknown and unclear.

As the wailing cries on the river of tears

As the wailing cries on the river of tears is the only thing

As the wailing cries on the river of tears is the only thing to which your mind

As the wailing cries on the river of tears is the only thing to which your mind can adhere.

Though she dares not brag or gloat,

Though she dares not brag or gloat, for the simple fact that she remains on the boat.

She hears the wailing cries and she tries not to choke,

the agony of the wails reaps a story to be wrote.

And in the darkest night, do the wails grow hands.

When all the lights fade and her hope is in strands.

The river of wailing cries only seeks to understand

why love was so forsaken

why love was so forsaken from their souls

why love was so forsaken from their souls and their plan.

Since the current doesn’t cease,

Since the current doesn’t cease, not tomorrow,

Since the current doesn’t cease, not tomorrow, not today.

All lives are able to live as blind hatred starts to stray.

My sister rows on the river

My sister rows on the river so the wailing souls can see.

That love was not forsaken,

That love was not forsaken, it’s only meant to be free...

with unity.

Thank You.