Thames River

I remember the river,
And the rolling rhythm
That sang to my soul.
The lights glistened like gold
In the darkness deep
With its seeming smile
That led my heart
To long to leap,
Pulling at my pulmonary.
That siren sang* sang
Until I grasped the guardrail
Caught in this cry
To desire my own destruction.
I eye the edge
Between life and death,
Pen and paper,
Ink and blood,
Only because the poem told me to-

Then suddenly as the song began,
It ends and
I am left bereft.
Because the poem desires to be written,
To be told,
And it knows I have more poems
So the fatal song waits outside my memory
Until it sings again,
Until my life-ink has run dry
And the last words written.

*A/N: The word sang is French for "blood" and sounds very similar to the English word "song."