How awkward that I let my feelings show.
Emotion of itself is not that bad,
it marks the gradients of how we grow.
But I had put the peaks I thought I had
above the vallies of our mutu’l flow.
The roots and grips of friendship’s banks slipped loose.
I traced new logic over mud’s arrays.
You stretched to principles I thought obtuse.
We swamped each other as we took our ways
through glacial trails and found abuse.
Yet universal liquid never sets,
and simply as this sloppy mess began,
we came across some well-worn rivulets
that save the half-drowned souls of Earth-bound Man.
Author: Damian Robin