The Boy of Gold

He was made of gold
made of pure bright gold
and i threw him into a river
a deep long river.
He sinked and stayed
buried in the deep waters
There he stayed
buried in blissful forgetness,
Forever held by forces
still unknown to me.
There he was hold
by good forces
away from me.
In the margin i waited
not knowing i was waiting
or what i was waiting for.
My eyes resting from his brightness
my heart stopping with fear.
A marginal, i'm still waiting
not wanting to wait
held by some forces
which i do not control.
Kept by hurtful forces
staring powerless
at the waters
at the boy of gold
covered by a silver liquid blanket of forgetness
drowned in bliss.
And i, staring senseless
eyes covered by warm water
not wanting him back
yet unable to move
stuck in sweet agony
held by tenderness and greed.