The river dried

The river dried, Leaving us thirsty and dehydrated, We searched everywhere, Just for a drop of water, But the elusive fluid, Was like Gold mines, deep in the earth, And we had no strength to dig, So we sat, wondering, What had become of us? To live like savages, To struggle for a meager drop of water, Then it hit us, like a thunderbolt, Maybe we weren’t thirsty at all, Maybe the illusion of thirst, Had been created by a world obsessed with water, And we had bought in to the hype, Believing that we couldn’t survive without it, Sure enough we owed debts that needed to be paid, For we had previously drunk from the stream on credit, And now the river master stood at our door every day, Reminding us that we owed him, For bending our knees to drink from his stream