I start at home, I end at work, through streets and rails I twist and lurk. Each day I repeat, yet never the same, A daily ritual with no one to blame.

I am a mystery. I am a abyss. I am older than anyone. Yet move the same as day one. What am i

I’m a wound the earth remembers, Carved by patience, time, and flow. People marvel at my great expanse, With echoes down below. Though I’m empty, life surrounds me; My layers, they run deep. I am a place the river founded, Millions of secrets I do keep.

What runs towards the bank and along it, only to run away from it?

Worldwide, it most frequently includes red, And is usually displayed proudly overhead. It can be thrown when bad deeds are around But many should never, ever touch the ground.