winding, swirling, bubbling,
the river comes to a near standstill;
here, where it has become tired
and ill disposed toward the tireless race
it must run.
each drop of water must now make its choice:
to go on or keep turning
around and around
in endless motion;
wasted effort in that it goes nowhere.
but there is no pressure in this endless journey
no chance of being splashed
or falling off a cliff
all choices are null in the ever squirming,
ever swirling, ever turning purgatory.
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