DEATH OF A RIVER. As twilight came to these Sombre Western Skies An' the mist sauntered in on the breeze, During this ill fated evening tide. And the stillness of the darkness did fall About my person, Ptchin' its black blanket upon the night. As I stood alone, And draped in my Cape, Where the Words did Tumble And fall, Welling up, As the Words of the River Of life,ran Spelling binding, And growing ever fearful, Was the Poetry, Because now Her death had Commenced, Gaia The Ore, Of that I was sure, In full fast and flowing flood, Crimson by colour, Under many a-ancient bridge, Through time and torrent, Measureless to man. For now Her Breath had been taken, The breath that She breathed, When Her Life giving Waters, Those spirit of Waters so clear, Were taken stifled 'n' strangled By Plastic and Solution, Till my Salmon, no more can Swim, Home, Home, from the raging Sea, An' where is the Heron? An' the Otter so few, Together with the other Life That was birthed from the Womb? Oh tis' dead, The River, Flooded with Life, Flood with Oak, English Oak, Father, Bering your own, In trenches that are Foreign, Where Sentences run, Teaming with Life, For with Prayer They Begin ,"Oh Crucified One".