Wanderer

Droplets of soul trickle down
through the fingers,
Drying the veins a little more
As the camouflage of skin blends deeper,
occupying nothingness.

Bones crack, then join again to a symphony
That arm of life plays with heart of death
Sometimes singing to the perfect tune of pain
In rhythm of waves of sadness,
that Wet the shores of the oceanic heart
And at times,
Weeping to the esctasy of victory, a moment
To be lived and then forgotten again

A walk through the jungles of lonliness
Where the wild succumb to the domesticated
And where the good gets evil,
More evil that evil himself can be
And at times,
A stationary blob, staring into that wall
Though visible yet an infinity
of mirages and melanges,
of hues and cries,
of solitude and companionship.

Pendulum swings from left to right
or is it back and forth
But doesnt matter, or rather it does
For the direction of air changes
The staleness remains.
Breathing it, feeling it, letting it seep
exfoliating the soul further,
only to add another layer

A Seeker of something not seen,
But something called own
Seeking what? If only I had known.