Swift

....like drifting nature would carry,
the amusing flow of liquid,
where I feel powerless,
down under the mass of water
I seek a movement of my arms,
I seek to find

lost parchments of loneliness,
that you found for me,
And I would shed tears
that would beguile,
the inner most expectation,
like giving birth to the dead,
that my powerful legs nest,
and cry out the enormous,
where I found you amongst,
millions of colorful gravels,
the serene sand,
unable to make you move