The River

A silent soul streaming endlessly
In the place where it calls home
A giver of life to those in need,
And for those who have died, a tomb.
.
A playground for children
On days where it be calm,
A graveyard for the reckless
When it explodes like a bomb.
.
A haven for the weak
When injured by a bear,
Yet dinner for a birds beak,
Like a prize at the fair.
.
Yet one day it will die,
With good and bad been done.
And on the day it goes dry,
To other places the animals will run.