A Wanderer’s Soul

Oh, what it is to be a wanderer,
To roam scenic trails among wooded pines.
To claim but a moment, this fleeting world as mine.

Stillness, silence, and whispers from the breeze,
Speaking softly, tenderly, into my ear.
With what little sense I cling to, I let it go,
Surrendering fully, as nature takes me whole.

The world, with its cruel nature, seeks to ensnare me,
Its darkness pulls, threatening to drown me in dread.
Though I am a wanderer, fleeing from my sorrows,
I know the promise of tomorrows may be hollow.

Still, I'll cling to the hope of a silver lining,
As I wander, ever forward, toward the horizon.

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