Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Amitav Radiance Apr 2015
A solitary wanderer
Guided by the winds
Through lonely valleys
Sipping from streams
Sleeping under stars
Night’s canopy as tent
Rolling on soft grass
Lay supine, dreaming
Of the sparkling stars
Holding them in the eyes
Life sparkles with glee
Solitary wanderer
Waylaid from the crowd
Greener pastures
Greets the wanderer
Solitude is bliss
Wanderer finds meaning
Finding ones purpose
Turning away from the crowd
Xan Abyss Mar 2015
I was born under stars of misfortune
I was raised by the beasts of the wild
I dwell in the cave of the shaman
I am known as Lucifer's Child

At ten years old did I first taste blood
At 15 I burned down a village
At 21 I was on the run
And today I **** and pillage

I live up in the mountains
A monster out on the edge
My heart is scattered across eternity
Black is the color it bled
My soul was bathed in the blood of my birth rite
Glow of God's Love, I've never known
So I choose to wander, a vagabond
And I'll die the way I was born - as a rogue

I'm the Emperor of the Fire
That devoured the valley below
I'm the lord of the funeral pyre
I bring terror wherever I go
I'm the Ogre from beyond
That watches from the stars
As this ugly world destroys itself
In a sea of blood and fire
More lyrics.
Ramir Mar 2015
Hi wanderer.

are you lost?
Or are you searching?
Searching for something to give you meaning.
Have you been found?
Or is waiting to be?
You could share me your stories
Id share mine to thee.
Are you looking for love?
Are you for fun?
Im not here to waste time.
Please do not waste mine.
Wanderer.. you might've been searching
you've might have been found..
you've might've seen your meaning
you've might have seen through mine.
Or you dont.
whatever might this bring.
I'm glad you've dropped by.
You've never wasted time here.
Every little thing you've done.
Is worthwhile.
Are you lost??
Noandy Feb 2015
Drag my eyes and dig my hope
Arrange the corpses and lit the flowers
Ruin our poetry and forsaken divine journeys

Lavish our time in varnished vanity
Incinerate the path you walk upon,

though nothing could come to any light—
Go find the hearts you had murdered.

The wind blew your tongue; colder your tears
Your dancing fingers and palms still talk of sun
And soon saturated your old ash driven hair
Into raindrop roots of forestry rhymes

Some of the rhymes were of your smile
Colored only by a single weary verse
To unravel the waves of your 7th ghost
which was
Just a picture for us to caress—

In the absence of sly soul and slacking slashes.

The pictures shall never fit the wooden frame
Carved by the sharp words you wrote by the heat
And the sympathetic sword you caress before the pages
Of travelling letters never yet to come.

And so I ask,

How long have my eyes been fasting
Drifted away from your grim outline
Questions I ask, is this an omen or mere silence
To welcome the storm I have yet encountered?

Ah,

Rustling wind shall tell no more
You would never have your hair and shadows back
Agonizing the pain we never had
None will have our verses and our wandering

Oh,

And I should learn to forget
Learn to regret
Learn to heed
Learn to bleed.
Atiya Ebony Dec 2014
My mind wonders too often to a place beyond here ~atiyaebony
Just sharing
Ranjini Malhotra Dec 2014
ghagras twirling
               veils swirling 
                                   anklets tinkling
silver at her neck
how she adorns herself!
regal as a queen
but cannot conceal
her banjara soul


gypsy blood flows in her veins
a thousand stars alight upon her veil
fuchsia and orange set fire to the dusk
twilight is thick with her magic
she sways with the grace of a peacock
bends like a willow to the breeze
dances in celebration of her soul
her smile a universal knowing


none can slow her pace
beauty this wild leaves only a trace
slips airily past eyes
drunk with desire
to beguile the moon in his heaven


she answers the call of the wanderer within
casts only laughter on the restless wind
this desert rose
this woman child
this gypsy queen
this banjara
This poem is called Banjara. The Banjara are a colorful group of nomadic people found in India in the states of Rajasthan, Gujarat, and Madhya Pradesh and in Sindh Province in Pakistan. They are often called the gypsies of India. (source Wikipedia). Banjara women are often beautifully dressed.
NeroameeAlucard Dec 2014
Rolling in the car
family by my side
looking out the window
watching other journeys pass me by
On the pharcyde I see
another kid liking through the window at me our eyes locked I was shocked I was looking at a younger me
maybe I'm traveling down the highway
but in the rearview are my memories
Just something to think about... Ya know?
Kenshō Dec 2014
Embody the world!
Dream into creation!
Your touch will comfort like carpeted grass.
Your voice like the wind and streams of peace.
Your breathe like lemon grass herb, warm and sweet.
Your mind like the mountains and clouds of the wanderer.

This man walks with poncho, satchel and cane.
He claims no wisdom and wars over no land.
He saddles the wind and chants to the Gods of ever-last.
Trailing only is a smokey film produced by his pipe of eternal life.

Modest is the heart of a good man;
Keen are the eyes and consciousness.
A natural fortitude are the roots of a clean soul;
Spread are the arms of success upon a mountain.
Survey the landscapes of history,
The beautiful transforming of this world,
Divine in its nature!
~~~
Sometimes to utter the sounds
of love back as an echo hurts.
It hurts as your silence
sits at the edge of a hurricane.
Slowly swallowing every part of
your joints till you stumble in weakness.

Your agony-an unending chaos,
Like your beating heart-
Your chest rises and falls like the waves
in the midst of twilight,
as you breathe just to feel alive.
You belong nowhere,
Yet you run and bump into the wild unknowns.
Sometimes, you are like the forest fire,
adding fiery red to the tranquil greenery.
Dawns comes by quickly
in the world you live in-
where you wipe off that colorful mask
and declare you are just a blank  masterpiece.

These insecurities-defines darkness inside out.
Born with every broken nerves,
and sometimes with newly found scars.
They burn and heal from far,
as I build these high towers of mine.
You see lover, to be a wanderer
I have to spell freedom with my own breath.
So don't hold me down,
Let me fly.
Even if you can't be there
to hold me tight,
at least watch how I fall
from great heights.
Next page