Poor little fish

He swam  endlessly  far and near.

From day to night he never felt tired.

I ask myself what  will happen if he dies.

Will he stay still or will his  soul rise.

Will he outlive me or will he die?

He lives empty waiting for  happy days.

Is his life worth living or  is he lost?

Words can’t describe how depressed he was, only eyes.

Water was his  element yet his death was prevented.

He swims and stares with big  bulging eyes.

Oh poor little fish he can never fly.

He watches birds from the window  to  stay  alive.

One morning I found him  dead.

He lays next to a rock  in the silence.

I had to face my fear that my friend  had disappeared.

Now he shall fly like a n angel set free.

He went  while his soul rose.