Eyes which hide a desperate soul Wanting something which no human had hold He bothers not but he does care Accepting honesty which is just not fair Like a magician out of thin air, Art and himself, an undying bond they share. His past was too eventful; I call it history The present, tangled in deep deep mystery The astronaut of his dreams, a fortunate trader He chooses not the sound of 'grey', he uses 'silver'. He is disappointment accompanied by gratitude Everything beautiful is his soul's food Blessed with the gift of true goodness, An impartial admirer of undying passion and natural clue He is the healer of his solitude, He is the silence which married vacuum's mood.
Wherever his thoughts sail him to Whichever land his heart chooses to move to Whatever beauty his eyes seek to find There,the wildest of the worlds his soul grew. There is nothing which would trouble the wanderer Yet, I see there is something too. More than this world around him, he is stronger The wanderer wails only because of the universe within, The wanderer is used to wandering, He walks blindly with pain inside, beauty beside, Love on his mind, peace struggling with reality He knows that he's the only person who can help him Unlock the treasures of golden nature, Shining shyly like dreamy drops of silver dew.