My heart of a whittler’s hesitant interest
A ficus among all the shiny canoes
A journey unknown, both wandering and lost
Its song bellows out for not one ear to witness

Perhaps, unsure of them who walk on two feet
It’s thump resonates with the owl and the hare
It’s chorus harmonizing with melodious gust
The wind knows it well, matching rhythm and beat

My aura, uncoloured, holds true an inquiry
Am I fated to flee from grasps of eminence?
Fated to avoid the stained foot steps ahead
And follow the will-o’-the-wisps inside me?

My heart of an artists blank canvas prevails
Unscathed and untampered at what cost
Questions of when will it learn to play rough
My human carcass held anchored as my essence sets sail