Wanderer

Where winds the path to the home I once knew,
Now buried beneath time’s cold, crushing hue.
Joy’s faded scent haunts the halls of my mind,
A wraith in the rafters, too cruel to be kind.

The mirror reflects what the soul can’t deny,
A vessel once whole, now broken and dry.
Years pass like vultures, circling above,
Feasting on silence born out of death of love.

A shadow that swallows both body and soul,
Wisdom’s a burden, it takes its toll.
It cuts like frost through a heart turned to ice,
A curse bound in time, with no end to slice.

Dreams rise like smoke in the chill of the night,
But vanish by dawn, gone out of my sight.
Bound in this stillness, where phantoms conspire,
Each breath I take feeds an invisible fire.

Memories linger like dust on the wall,
Unspoken names in an endless sprawl.

They circle like crows with obsidian eyes,
Mocking the comfort the daylight denies.

I wear the calm like a mask carved of ash,
Held in place by chains that continue to lash.

None see the storm that howls deep within,
A cathedral of echoes, a kingdom of sin.

I press through the walls of this sorrowful night,
Where nothing responds, not a soul in my sight.

They think they know me, but truth lies beneath,
Buried in silence, wrapped tightly in grief.

No altar to kneel at, no heaven to seek,
Just the endless dark where the shadows grow weak.
A wanderer doomed to roam without end,
Not cursed by a foe, but betrayed by a friend.