A reservoir of a foreign well

The streams do not scream “Where to?”,
they only trickle silently in the riverbeds,
flow into rivers, oceans,
and the evaporate into white clouds
which water the streams.

Only a man with a man breaks the spears in trenched riverbeds
and honors coexistences in firm faith in the power of his image,
while only the storms past his will
lead his way across the barriers ahead.

But he would run in the riverbeds of God
if he was only a passenger who trickles in the traveling riverbeds
and not a reservoir of a foreign well,
which he consolidates with amendments day by day,
to prevail with his image there over the oceans…

When time turns,
he will become an everlasting amendment,
without a human being.