They said goodbye:
we would be back in a while,
in the midst of lonely coast
wandering the scales of the
forest to see the street.
Rivers never brought back the
moment in the garden of their
abode:
the fate of their heart decided on
the brutal choices of gun by the
voice of torture.
Streak to fulfill the will they were
never taught,
the morals they never adopted by the
standards of integrity and
innocence.
To return home unknown,
to tell the mystery they never foretold
across the hidden veils of trees across
the forest,
exhibiting the belief of broken
branches
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