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#wanderer
Hello, my lonely wanderer, You, just like me, are flying into the unknown, And you are the chosen one, Yes, you are destiny’s chosen one, A chosen one of life, just like me. Doubts are eating you alive, Just as they gnaw and tear at me, Upon our shoulders mercilessly Lies the lying whip! You, like me, bury your feelings, But resurrect them again and again, And yet you know, you know so well, That love will never be understood by you. And I — an exile, yes, an exile, I was never understood by the crowd, Their false ideas I burned with a single line! Странник Здравствуй, мой одинокий странник, Ты, как и я, летишь, неведома куда, И ты избранник, Да, ты судьбы избранник, Избранник жизни, как и я. Тебя сомненья разъедают, Как и меня, грызут и рвут, На плечи наши беспощадно ложился лживый кнут! Ты, как и я, хоронишь чувства, Но воскрешаешь вновь и вновь, И все же знаешь, прекрасно знаешь, Что не понять тебе любовь. А я - изгнанник, да, изгнанник, Я не понятен был толпой, Что их фальшивые идеи, Сжигал одной строкой!
0
5d ago
May 29, 2026 at 10:35 AM UTC
The Wanderer
even the mistakes have propelled you here where nothing is wasted or useless.
0
Apr 30
Apr 30, 2026 at 7:07 AM UTC
twists and turns
I was merely a wanderer, wandering aimlessly. How would I have known that my destiny was written somewhere else? How would I have known I was never meant to be yours? You had a single line for me, where I kept half of the pages of my life empty for you, to write the verses of your poem. I knew you wanted the sky, I feared I was only gravity. But I also knew I could have learned to fly beside you if only you had looked back once. After you, I realized, perhaps someone else is dedicating half of their book to me when I only spared them a single verse in mine.
0
Feb 21
Feb 21, 2026 at 10:14 AM UTC
Empty Verses Of Life
the ghost that wanders the battlements from room to room day to night back again through seasons and years a temporary flesh dressed apparition with hair and nails growing longer distance a constant leaving and arriving a face weathered with wind sun and rain these castle walls will fall tumbled down and forgotten todays ghost never to be remembered a wanderer gone through the secret door.
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Feb 2
Feb 2, 2026 at 12:31 PM UTC
wandering the battlements
from a life of wandering
 an internal clock tick-tock whispers the old road is calling 
its winter deserts of stars and loneliness the cold north coast
 valleys of rivers and wildflowers mountain peaks that line the heavens but i will not go 
a new road calls and whispers this way into seasons of forgetting where i am and where i’ve been 
from a life of wandering
0
Nov 15, 2025
Nov 15, 2025 at 11:02 AM UTC
The Road
if i never came i'd never know what i've seen if i never leave i'll never see the rest of everything
0
Nov 10, 2025
Nov 10, 2025 at 7:18 AM UTC
A Wanderer's Summation
A flat blue surface, Waves swing the boat. On the boat, sitting alone, Wanderer gets all soaked. His conveyance hits the shore, Cold grains under the feet. A kiss of the gentle breeze, Happy him, ties the cleat. The sand of a few steps, Headed to the dark woods. He froze and looked back, He lost all his goods. Trailed to the whispering leaves, Horrified and compelled. Birds chirping and a distant howl, He takes out his three-inch blade. Shivering hands, trembling knife, He sees a surface shine. Broken moon in the pond, A break would be fine. His thin legs march again, The broken moon joined together. A flickering yellow lamp, He found himself a shelter. His legs made it, the hope survived, Didn't bring any crates or a wife. He was empty-handed in the last, The wanderer only had his life.
0
Nov 2, 2025
Nov 2, 2025 at 4:08 PM UTC
The Wanderer
Originally ‘Freebird’ | November 2024 She awoke and reached out for the morning embrace; her brow bone grew wrinkled, not spotting his face. The sheets were smoothed neatly, coffee brewed strong, just black. He put the pack upon his shoulders to begin a journey. He’d never be back. Enamored by potential, and driven by grief. On the dirt road with beetles - creamed corn and beef. The ground barely shook, as he climbed up hillside. It’d rain, sleet and thunder - He maintained his stride. Until she crossed his path, destination less clear, and you could bet all your fortune he stayed for a year. She taught him of tea tree, the joy in a tithe, and he grew a new glisten in his once down turned eyes. On the wrong side of a small, disheveled bed; what was actually the right, he grew again fearful, and left in the night. She awoke and reached out for the morning embrace; her brow bone grew wrinkled, not spotting his face. The sheets were smoothed neatly, coffee brewed just the same, but she started using creamer and choked on his name.
0
Sep 9, 2025
Sep 9, 2025 at 2:08 AM UTC
Brood
i am a wanderer, i wander i've wandered through the earth back and forth, i've wandered through am i looking for something? i don't know am i looking for something? i don't know maybe i am, i don't know just yet for now, i am happy just wandering so for now i will just keep wandering life is a journey, not a destination my journey's been interesting i've seen some beautiful things but i've also seen some ugly things for now i am happy to wander this much i know if i am looking for something i will know when i find it
0
Jul 28, 2025
Jul 28, 2025 at 7:46 AM UTC
i wander
How much of a gasp of thin air to sustain my heart, to let me breathe, to help my words get your tone, and speak with your accent. How long am i gonna hold my breathe for you To save me? its riduculous I know, But just so you know How far i can go for
0
Jul 13, 2025
Jul 13, 2025 at 9:03 AM UTC
Rover
I walked through the quiet hush of dusk, where echoes of dreams in shadows lay. Soft whispers clung to the evening breeze, calling me back to yesterday. A lantern flickered deep in my chest, its flame unsure, yet burning bright. Through shattered paths and weary steps, it carved its way into the night. I gathered moments, thread by thread, stitched them into skybound wings. Though time may steal, and fate may fade, some dreams still hum—some echoes sing.
0
Mar 25, 2025
Mar 25, 2025 at 5:24 AM UTC
Echoes of a Dream
Time drips slow like falling rain, upon a heart weighed down with pain. A thousand thoughts fill up my mind, but no place left for peace to find. By the sea, the wind still calls, whispering stories through hollow halls. Beneath the moon, beneath the sky, I watch the stars and wonder why. My soul is torn, yet still I smile, walking cold and lost for miles. The sun once warm, now barely light, shadows stretch into the night. I hold my breath, I close my eyes, feel the fire where silence lies. A single dream, a fleeting touch, a whispered hope, but never much. My hands still shake, my lips still burn, for memories that won’t return. The truth is heavy, life is loud, the past is just a drifting cloud. Yet in the dark, I still believe, that something waits, beyond the grieve. For even lost, we still remain— a whisper carved into the rain.
0
Feb 28, 2025
Feb 28, 2025 at 1:44 PM UTC
Echoes in the Rain
Oh, how I wish to find a safe space. A warm space, A dreamy space, Somewhere I can feel warmth and be welcomed Perhaps, I am not deserving of finding such space. Am I not looking hard enough? Or is it that I am looking to hard, Over analyzing, Missing the subtle signs of what this space is. Have I become blind to seeing it? Have I missed it? Is it no longer a space that is available for me? Wherever it is, I don’t believe I’ll find it in this city.
0
Feb 21, 2025
Feb 21, 2025 at 7:52 AM UTC
et voilà
Oh! the breezes tell me why..? I always try keep me right.. Wondering what others will think.. Where as I was always left to me.. Oh! the sun give me the strength.. Just to be alone and be brave.. It is people that make me sick.. Just let me be what I can be.. Oh! the moon will you stop.. Of reminding me how weak I was.. Loving and caring was all I knew.. Till something harder came to me.. Oh! the lights will you guide me.. Though the darkness and through the vice.. A part of me still needs the dark will you help the other half?? Oh! the cradles that I used to swing.. Hoping that someone will give me the wings.. It is the fall that made me "me".. Now I'm running even on my knees.. Oh! The heart do you know? How much it aches when you never grow.. What we had felt someday gets proved wrong.. Warm should be blood can't you get cold? Oh! The self can't you grow? Leave the chaos down the road.. Self you should help and self you should heal.. There can't be a place where you can be free.. What is the purpose? What is this life? Which we are trying so hard to fight... Leave the road and find your streets.. Never again you should watch yourself bleed.. Will you stop and look at the time.. It is inevitable as it was.. It was ticking and is and will.. So how can you stop if it can't be?
0
Oct 14, 2024
Oct 14, 2024 at 12:10 PM UTC
A Silent Noise
Wanderer ... lost ... i am ... my love ... and uh ... wish you know ... my feelings scale ... and it's madness ... in my heart ... all night ... how it was ... burn my heart ... in the dead of night ... while i been drew ... those lips ... your lips ... in my fantasies mind ... with all lines ... just ... to get a chance ... to have a kiss ... to dive with ... to the world of dreams ... until morning comes ... and the meeting will be ... to make dream ... comes as true .... with much of kisses. .. Without drawing imagination ... just a reality ... kisses ... hazem al ..
0
Jan 18, 2023
Jan 18, 2023 at 4:21 AM UTC
Wanderer ...
Journey to endless slumber to find you in thousand dream, reminiscing sweet memories, for this graceful excitement, from what we used to have, a wish as existence of you never fade, a dream permanently stay forever, even clock stop ticking and my body decayed, hope for our consciousness can coexist in the end, I'm the one will be perish... where my soul keeps wander, waiting to be together, at endless boundaries,
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Jun 17, 2022
Jun 17, 2022 at 12:34 AM UTC
Endless
Let me walk along the roads like a wanderer I’ll glance at the beggars Side eye the kids walking home Someone asks if i'm selling I say not today The nights are cold Grass and dirt stain my old clothes Traffic sounds Anger and wrath Where am I going? Where will I go from here? I don't know
0
Apr 1, 2022
Apr 1, 2022 at 2:54 PM UTC
Unorthodox desires
_Let me fall Deeply into the heart Of the wanderer, Under the dappled skin Into the belly of the thing Heavy and warm; The hermit and the outcast Is met in me By the stomp of a hoof, The shifting Of weight As he steadies himself; I look down at my feet Aware of toes and heels Colliding with the ground._
0
Feb 21, 2022
Feb 21, 2022 at 3:51 PM UTC
Cherokee
Can I settle In your heart, A most fertile valley, Let me fill My lungs with you, A breath of fresh air, For I have been a wanderer Traveling far and long In search of someone That felt like home ©KNL
0
Nov 11, 2021
Nov 11, 2021 at 2:48 AM UTC
Wanderer
Feet swayed above the depths of the deep blue sea, eyes scanning over the horizon of crimson reds and embellished purples that rest with the indolent ripples of water; leaving reflections of scattered perfection to dissipate into the open waters. Longing for a sense of direction, a sense of change. My heart ached for a better me, to be as beautiful and courageous as this sea. The salty water napped at my toes, hitting the floating pillars that hold up this stretch of rotting wood, as though in a rage to let me know, “You are beyond what you see, open your mind and let free, just be!” But who am I beyond this flesh prison of intellectual knowledge? A walking encephalon of salted water, feeling more then my core accounts for; I want to be the sea, and so much more. An illusion in the real world, as if the magic man forgot to snap his fingers and bring me back to reality; and still, I pity those who can not see me. The genuine me. If only I could be seen beyond the phony, people-pleasing charade. Oh, what a lovely day it could be. To listen to the quiet, before me. For words are not what make self, but the silence of the unspoken, of the words spoke within. Though, I look on into those crimson reds and embellished purples, I am reminded that I am just as puny as the planet itself, beyond the galaxies of space and time. Or am I just as vast as an ant to its crumb, that falls beneath the floor board? A dreamer of the void, but I’ll never touch the starry night light. I am a gnomist, deluged in a subconscious mass of riptides. There has to be a better construct among the hillsides, but my mind is branching off in dark suicides. As my thoughts wandered, so did the allegory of the sky, beneath the sea to sleep; and the darkness settled a top the water. Where am I now? Still. Silent. Wreaking havoc on this ageless soul. I lay back on the rotten wood of this outstretched dock far from the shore, with my thoughts deep, deeper then the water that licks my toes with every wave that pushes. Water that once touched the deepest sands of the sea. Water that has coasted along sunken ships and forgotten memories that lay a strewn bottomless pits, never to be seen. Water that evaporates into the sky, touching the air we breathe, with clouds that sheds it's watery tears back into the sea, singing, “Oh, wont you come with me, to this wasteland of the silent. Where we’re all destined to be.” I raised my hand and touched what can not be seen. Seen, but can not be touched - The starry night, and the aurora’s green ribbons of light, dancing to rhythm of my off beat heart. What a beautiful sight. Thoughts of darkness turned to light. A different thought provoked within, and a smile creeped across my face. How strange that a change in scenery can alter one’s mind riddle in a blink of an eye. Once dark and sorrowful, to serene and irenic. The search for our better selves, is never-ending and ever changing.
0
Aug 11, 2021
Aug 11, 2021 at 3:28 PM UTC
where must we go
Feet swayed above the depths of the deep blue sea, eyes scanning over the horizon of crimson reds and embellished purples that rest with the indolent ripples of water; leaving reflections of scattered perfection to dissipate into the open waters. Longing for a sense of direction, a sense of change. My heart ached for a better me, to be as beautiful and courageous as this sea. The salty water napped at my toes, hitting the floating pillars that hold up this stretch of rotting wood, as though in a rage to let me know, “You are beyond what you see, open your mind and let free, just be!” But who am I beyond this flesh prison of intellectual knowledge? A walking encephalon of salted water, feeling more then my core accounts for; I want to be the sea, and so much more. An illusion in the real world, as if the magic man forgot to snap his fingers and bring me back to reality; and still, I pity those who can not see me. The genuine me. If only I could be seen beyond the phony, people-pleasing charade. Oh, what a lovely day it could be. To listen to the quiet, before me. For words are not what make self, but the silence of the unspoken, of the words spoke within. Though, I look on into those crimson reds and embellished purples, I am reminded that I am just as puny as the planet itself, beyond the galaxies of space and time. Or am I just as vast as an ant to its crumb, that falls beneath the floor board? A dreamer of the void, but I’ll never touch the starry night light. I am a gnomist, deluged in a subconscious mass of riptides. There has to be a better construct among the hillsides, but my mind is branching off in dark suicides. As my thoughts wandered, so did the allegory of the sky, beneath the sea to sleep; and the darkness settled a top the water. Where am I now? Still. Silent. Wreaking havoc on this ageless soul. I lay back on the rotten wood of this outstretched dock far from the shore, with my thoughts deep, deeper then the water that licks my toes with every wave that pushes. Water that once touched the deepest sands of the sea. Water that has coasted along sunken ships and forgotten memories that lay a strewn bottomless pits, never to be seen. Water that evaporates into the sky, touching the air we breathe, with clouds that sheds it's watery tears back into the sea, singing, “Oh, wont you come with me, to this wasteland of the silent. Where we’re all destined to be.” I raised my hand and touched what can not be seen. Seen, but can not be touched - The starry night, and the aurora’s green ribbons of light, dancing to rhythm of my off beat heart. What a beautiful sight. Thoughts of darkness turned to light. A different thought provoked within, and a smile creeped across my face. How strange that a change in scenery can alter one’s mind riddle in a blink of an eye. Once dark and sorrowful, to serene and irenic. The search for our better selves, is never-ending and ever changing.
Continue reading...
6
Under a mask and some ripples An ocean of sky and foam of clouds Wind wanderer, you and your tides Must have been where nothing remains
0
Mar 11, 2021
Mar 11, 2021 at 7:51 PM UTC
Wander
I see him everyday, on a broken pieces of mirror His pale face, body thin, Eyes sink in tears. Cry of his belly and brain, is all he could hear Carrying the weight of his shattered dream His heart beats in the fear Will he ever overcome From this enduring nightmare. Will someday he can see himself As he had wish to appear? Lost in these thoughts, every now and then He moves here to there So the passengers, passing on the street Called him, 'The Street wanderer'. Sometimes he dives into his memories Remembering how he had come here Remembering that once he had his loving parents His friends, his relatives, all were there But he left the home and brought himself alone To do something for which the world can cheer And as you can see, he reached nowhere Shedding his hope with every drop of tear. But forget, what had happened in the past As this morning, the Sun casts The lights of bright fortune What he have to do is to follow his tune. Sitting on a bench That serve him as bed He takeout his dairy And his pen. Started to jot Whatever in his mind Satisfied with nothing He scratched all, in no time In that anger, he had on self, He hold his head, he yelp. He remembered the words of his parents "Focus on studies, You are not for all this!" Oh, how good, if he follow their instruction At least, he can see his reflections. Time passed from day to night And he is still, without smile Sitting on that very bench He pick his dairy, in his hand Turning the wrinkled pages, all scratched. Marking his disbelief on himself. But this time he is determined And this very night, he have to find The rhyme The very best rhyme.
0
Oct 28, 2020
Oct 28, 2020 at 2:27 AM UTC
Street Wanderer
I see him everyday, on a broken pieces of mirror His pale face, body thin, Eyes sink in tears. Cry of his belly and brain, is all he could hear Carrying the weight of his shattered dream His heart beats in the fear Will he ever overcome From this enduring nightmare. Will someday he can see himself As he had wish to appear? Lost in these thoughts, every now and then He moves here to there So the passengers, passing on the street Called him, 'The Street wanderer'. Sometimes he dives into his memories Remembering how he had come here Remembering that once he had his loving parents His friends, his relatives, all were there But he left the home and brought himself alone To do something for which the world can cheer And as you can see, he reached nowhere Shedding his hope with every drop of tear. But forget, what had happened in the past As this morning, the Sun casts The lights of bright fortune What he have to do is to follow his tune. Sitting on a bench That serve him as bed He takeout his dairy And his pen. Started to jot Whatever in his mind Satisfied with nothing He scratched all, in no time In that anger, he had on self, He hold his head, he yelp. He remembered the words of his parents "Focus on studies, You are not for all this!" Oh, how good, if he follow their instruction At least, he can see his reflections. Time passed from day to night And he is still, without smile Sitting on that very bench He pick his dairy, in his hand Turning the wrinkled pages, all scratched. Marking his disbelief on himself. But this time he is determined And this very night, he have to find The rhyme The very best rhyme.
Continue reading...
50
Where would you be off to when this calm lake split asunder chewed at your lungs, waiting a surrender Muffled your screams as it pulled you under Where would you be off to housed in layers, moving as tides they wander Where would you be off to When snakes crawled out in hunger Gnawed at your skin, turning it to bright umber feasting you slow waiting for spiders to plunder Where would you be off too hollow of your bones deep in their slumber Where would you be off to Chased by bullets too many in number Stabbed at your being, hitting like thunder Gushing out blood your legs as they lumber where would you be off to choking on roses, taken away in a dumper Where would you be off to Lost as a hopeless bird's tiny youngster Open wings turned on by the blue yonder Sleeping in bushes, stealing from a monger Where would you be off to lying awake somewhere here under
0
Sep 15, 2020
Sep 15, 2020 at 8:12 AM UTC
Where would you be off to