Moored

Serenly Stumbling down the stream

Not quite asleep but in a dream

Without a float or oar at hand

Was this the journey you had planned?

Water flows from clear to white

Sure as sure, day fades to night

Rocks and currents turn waters feral

Jovial journeys fill with plight and peril

The water slows at the final bend

A murky mire meets water's end

Nonchalantly drift to where we are bound

The place where water greets the cold, hard ground