He wonders in an ascending thunder.

He roams in an aspiring trail,
which excites without fail.
He please's like a contagious disease.

Do you love me, do you hate me?
The little boy used to ask.
A smile in his eyes,
used to confuse
and bemuse.
Some it would anger,
and to some,
it would intrigue.
But,
he knew,
it was only a smile.
Mischief was his game,
adventure his name.
Love in his heart,
to the end from the start.
Till death to him part.