I'm a wanderer. But i don't wander to explore the outer physical world , I do it to explore the universe inside me.

The Wanderer

What is she like?
I was told—
she is a
melancholy soul.

She is like
the sun to the night;
a momentary gold.

A star when dimmed
by dawning light;
the flicker of
a candle blown.

A lonely kite
lost in flight—
someone once
had flown.

Now that I am past picking the knife to stab one, the reward of stabbing a few more comes at an unfairly lower risk!

I am much inclined to live from my rucksack, and let my trousers fray as they like.

I'm a wandering gypsy.

It stops any wandering around.