I walk the path of shadowed fronds,
Trailing the sands,
with steps shallow,
For the tides,
my tardy footprints.
Far across the horizon,
the sun is flawless,
Shining through cloudless skies,
silencing the breeze,
that waltzes with the tides.
I am but a wayfarer in this world of contradictions,
Where truth and lies,
are at play with man’s affections,
They magnify, and yet they devour,
They parry not without each other,
For what is man,
without his priceless words of variation.
One day this, and on another – an exclamation;
It is but there in his mind,
to see a tale and tell a lie,
to see suffering and not bear its strife,
to neither stop or carry the burden of befriending,
the harshness of life,
or of those kind of wiles.
I am but a wayfarer in a world of reckoning,
Where words flow through hardened hearts,
and dissolve in unshed tears,
where sadness can remain in Bravehearts,
not heard of,
and dismissed as an encumbrance.