Sunday, March 9, 2014

A restless stroll

Something troubled him,
like wind troubles leaves...
So he kept moving
trying to run, trying to flee,
in search of quiet and peace.
In the end, he received neither.
Regardless, he carried on,
hoping someday he'll catch them both
and they'll be his first and last.
One noon, he looked up at the sky
and asked himself, "Why do i have to journey?"
He waited for an answer 
but couldn't hear a voice.
So he looked down at his feet and asked them, "Can you two stop?"
They said in unison, "Yes, we can. Not."
Dejected, he kept walking
like a moron without a cause.
Happened days, weeks, months, years and a lot. 
No moment of glory awaited him
nor a distant village nor a wonderful lass.
Only the beauty of an unrequited future did. 
The poor man walked and walked
till the road disappeared and his minds crossed...
Only to meet that moment of truth
resulting from a lost trail.
The wind caressed his open eyes 
before entering his closed mouth,
while the ground kissed his back,
his soul left a lasting spark.
Even the sun couldn't help smiling at
his lively departure with a dead heart.

1 comment:

Unknown said...

Very few people possess true artistic ability. It is therefore both unseemly and unproductive to
irritate the situation by making an effort. If you have a burning, restless urge to write or paint, simply eat
something sweet and the feeling will pass. See the link below for more info.

#restless
www.mocsbar.com