Common paths are drawn,
Shaping the pavement,
Filling silence.
Tracing vulnerably,
Left unsaid,
While Mother weaves.
Raindrops course the gutters,
While currents soothe our battered skull,
Creation bargains.
As if of heaven,
Torn from clouds,
Quenching damned thirst.
Tombs devour the rivers,
Sewers overflow,
Nature still abhors us,
Tonight we sleep alone.
The Elementalist Epoch 
I loved this one. It seems to capture the soul of water in words. Thank you for shaing it.
powerful.