The Wanderer

June 8, 2011
Empty, like a hollow vase,
Filled with nothing but empty space.
No joy or sorrow or escalation.
Just nothingness and desolation.

Dark like the blackest night,
A world without pleasure or light.
A place unnoticed by the eyes.
Where my deepest sorrow lies.

Silent like a wandering soul
Floating, hungering to be whole.
I pass through the fabric of time,
Yearning for a road, a sign.

Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

Site Feedback