Sera

samuelpye  
Rivers that thunder through canyons,
some bantering,
some chartered,
some held on,
some belonged to those with good course,
the uttering of which were remarked by the sense of belonging,
guess without fear of that which is not known,
devoured by wicked strikes of the darkest miserable and the most harmful hurt, 
capture that which you need to wrap around like a freedom flag, 
upbeat, in the know, 
the loop of heightened tension,