The river- was, but died away,
leaving behind sand and stone,
a dry river bed.
The river that once led the way,
To Rameses throne,
Has no more life- dead.
The river from which reeds grew and swayed,
now dead and gone,
all that’s left-a dry river bed.
The river that was marvelous by day,
and treacherous once the sun was gone,
is now but a dry river bed.
The river- beautiful, no words could say,
left behind – just a dry river bed.
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