What is a man, but layered secrets?
What is a woman, but a man's demise?
What is a vagabond, that I do know,
A vagabond is free, with time he will flow,
A wolf will cry to the moon,
A wanderer will as well,
For he too was in love,
He too knows that hell,
She was his life, Now she is his doom,
For she killed him with a few words,
But those few words were all it took,
He'd be alive were they never heard,
A vagabond has no attachments,
To any human here,
He has surpassed all human needs,
He needs no one near,
I wish to be that vagabond,
And wonder from land to land,
The pains of love I know quite well,
That hell I understand. |
