River of forgotten souls

 River of forgotten Souls.

  As I slip beneath the waves in the river of forgotten souls, there beneath the named stones. Unclean the water’s that tell the lies , muddied the truths that keep them on thrones .
  Drink not of the fountain that lay in the quick and the mire , for the stories of sailing on a lake of glass soon will be stuck on their sides. Like the soul’s that believe, to drink of the fermented grape will grant you seats on high, as the flowers that grow above their heads tell of their demise.
  Of all those sleeping, of all the dead, not one was keeping of him their bread, of all that listened but did not hear, of all that seen , but had no vision of what happened there. Not one was worthy, not good enough , none could stand to take his place, but all with cheers and much disgrace , of all the souls of all the days, only one was saved that day, only one that mattered, the one that cared.
  Beneath the waters there lay’s a single branch, a single olive branch placed there by a Snow White dove, in hopes that all will will be ok and we will rise above our pits and holes. We will find a mountain top where only truth prevails , and a single bird will share the word of how not to swim in the river of forgotten souls.
By GWRoggenbuck