Rivers as so wild flow, fish no power but to follow
Up to the sea the journey ends yet a new starts
As born they think a home first and ever to last
Time passes, to change the perfect they want not
‘Ve heard the fool to St. Anselm, in hands the betters
Hence the mind from the unknown freaks and fears
As elder fish travel connections with youngest drops
Poor fish their only wish the destination late to reach
So far so impossible the find just by mind only to perceive
Pressure on ears as down go so high
On eyes as deep become so dark
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