Driftwood

Left wading neck-high in dirt by

the flood of wastewaters

Completely soaked to the bone

Floating restless in in time pining

out-Through the unending

struggles

Straight towards the unknown

with nothing to hold onto

Always against the stream

Beating through the debris

But as long as the scenery keeps

rushing it's alright

Always against the stream

Riding on the belief

That as long as the scenery

keeps chancing it's alright

Left sailing the sea of dirt on a

raft that is leaking

Moved by the stench of the wind

Waiting the high-tide to come to

finally sink in

In the scum-tsunami with

nothing to hold onto