Jester, Jester.
You don't humor me.
Hell, I haven't even laughed.
And still I am the fly
and you the light
and the window.
You show me wonders
but you trap me.
And all I want to be
is free.
So run! run! run!
Or I will.
That's my profession, after all.
I flee, I flee, I flee.
Up to the point
where I feel more at home
when I'm on the journey.

Because the only time
I recognise myself is then.

I have my only independence in my traveling.
One day I will take advantage of that
and disappear
Like smoke in the air.
The wind will carry me
And time and space will be infinite and all at once,
for I will be everywhere,
and will find... **home