By Tararith
The drowning water convolvulus is sorrowful;
The water rises, and it must struggle to reach.
When it breaks the surface with its new, fragile leaves
Life is safe for the night.
In the morning, only the old growth is left standing,
And the jealous people eat the new shoots.
While the drowning water convolvulus mourns the loss,
For it had believed that its struggle would win it life.
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