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Fallen angel who lost your wings
In order to see you smile again
I traveled to a dungeon
I am lost in the dark
Drowning in despair
And my heart came
close to breaking many times
But every-time that happened
I would see a vision of you
You shook my soul
I killed my weaker self
And continued fighting
I wandered the dungeon
Disposed of my enemies
I became more powerful
But there was just one important thing
I couldn't find
A spell to heal the wounds
that torment you
Powerless and defeated
I was wrong
I had to go home
Knowing all you want is my presence
My love, wait for me to come home.
Where you love brokenhearted things
You do sort of things that could help
Them stop pleading and weeping
no matter how
no matter what
it takes.
Leisha Dias Dec 2018
I was wanderer,
Wandering in the land of death and despair;
Blows and bruises were my food
Blood and tears, my drink.

I was a wanderer,
Wandering in the desert of solitude;
The sands were of broken promises
The sun was my life's Judas.

I was a wanderer,
Wandering in the forest of fear;
The trees were all overpowering and bullying
The animals were all predators.

I am still a wanderer,
Wandering in the infinite land, desert and forest;
In search of a home to where I belong
In a quest to find solace in the stillness.
whenever you find yourself
wandering to far
just sit and remember
to look at the stars

and they'll guide you
back home

often storm casts upon a spell
broken, unfed;
and these travelers' wishes,
and dream of instead

a sweet memory of home
your life built up on stone

and we sail the seas
roaring high
the demons asleep,
sneak above o'er their heads
brave blue oceans, so deep

and you'll find your way home
and you wont be alone

and when storms blow against you
raindrops on your head
keep it up above o'er the clouds
think of your bed

for you're never alone
let God guide you back home
Song for the lost, wandering, blind and directionless. Suggested use: once every morning, once every night
Madhav Nov 2018
A long time ago
A time quite known
There was a man
Who was seeking the truth
Who's wish was to understand
The path drawn by the hand
The way of the wandering

He wished
Hence his truth
Stained
Circles he thought
Was what the hand would draw
All wandering quite agreed
But one did not
He was defiant
Back he went
Forth later
Lunacy was inherent
The way he tread
The hand the man doubted
Had but made a mistake
A mistake
Or just a perspective
Shall remain unknown
A circle
Eccentric
Was defined
Two centers
It had
Perplexed our man
Circles he thought
Defined perfection

Had it not been this wanderer
Who chose to defy

Our man
He would have been kept
Away
From the truth

The truth
That eccentric
Are the paths
That all who wander
Follow
Its only the perspective
That defines the lunacy
The eccentricity
The path of the wanderer.

The hand
Could have made a mistake
But who knows
He too might have been
Eccentric
At least a little bit.
The poem is about Kepler's quest to understand planetary orbits, which he thought should be circular. The to and fro movement of mars (also loop the loop motion) didn't fit the hypothesis of circular orbits. In the end he had to abandon his idea of circles to ellipses, which fit the anomalous movement of mars perfectly.
I became
untethered -
a wild wanderer
treading sand barefoot,
eager and constant
a butterfly unpinned,
unhinged -
storms rolling across
my skin like water
only divine intervention
could tame me,
and I stood fearless
in the face of
God
Elioinai Oct 2018
I’m walking through the desert
Following faint trails of pioneers before
Sometimes stumbling in circles through furnaces of sand and cactus
I haven’t seen my destination
it’s place isn’t marked on any map
I don’t know where I’ll find water
I’m a wanderer and I don’t keep it on tap,
I lose my sense of time
listening to the dune’s eerie song
All I know is that I’ve been trapped here
too long
I live for the moments I crest the layered plateaus
and can finally see the distance
of wilderness I have travailed
Dedicated to Jamie
Yani Oct 2018
And they say consistency,
by and large is the key;
then, with just a glitch on being consistent
it killed me consistently.
Derrek Estrella Oct 2018
When in Bohemia, she screams about
Her pastures green, but not too loud
So never have I known, that the world listens too
As a comedian, I see she belongs
But never conforms, to the song of
This nomad world, I'm glad she found it too
So run! She wants to run again
You vagabond, you're well-spent

Bohemian tendencies says, “you can't stay long”
“These kinds of commons, you won't ever get along”

Armenian, it’s such a release
Materialistic animosity
The speed of life has no value, like dollar signs
I loved an alien, who dabbled in art
Of all visage, enema of the heart
Wanderer, she's spent so much but there's that bliss in the air
So smile! It's all sorts of worthwhile
To see a world and not fret so much

Bohemian tendencies says, “be spectacular
Before the nebula men steal your fur”

In the Caribbean, you dream a kite
As your taxi, you can't walk all the time
Travel hills of puce-mauve sands, the world in trance
A true deviant, the thinking of
All dreaming thoughts, and loves begot
Tinkerer, what will we do when our brains run dry?
Oh, no! Don't think about the end
To love a life in due pretence 

Bohemian tendencies says, “think fair, live now”
“The world is watching with distaste of time in doubt”

As a chameleon, should she go alone?
The world is cold, except for times in colour
Her world in dance, she'll do without me
When in Bohemian, the first I've seen
Of pastel stencils through her happi-
Ness-tled in her loft home of the wind
There she goes! Ain’t she a lovely wing?
I hope she finds a world that sings

Bohemian tendencies says, “to love and to hold
But to let go, for treasures can mold”

There she goes
There she goes
There she goes
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