Outliers, nomads, vagabonds of sorts
We have many names, us unsettled at heart
One city, one place will never be enough
We travel, not to find ourselves, but to discover higher truths
We travel to meet people like you

Without said journeys, blank pages fill your soul
You whither and dry and just plain crumble
Colors haven't touched your eyes,
Wonders, your mind
Read all the pages you can possibly come by

I, for one, can say this is truly true
I've found wonder and intrigue,
But I'll always be most interested in traveling with you

                                    *s.q.

How long will the road go?
The sky is singing for me…
As this tumbling machine stretches
Into the lengths of the everlasting abyss,
The winds caress skin,
I am home.

Freedom is sweet,
like the rain.*
My darkness has not subsided,
But has rather been enlightened-
A candlewick flickering…
Brought unto the sun.
An aura evading waves of renewal
Glimmering violet and indigo,
Happiness in vertigo.
An awakening of willingness
To begin the great vagabondage
That most refer to as the future.
More so; the unknown.
And it is okay to not know-
The unseen is mesmerizing.