A Home Yet Unfound

As profound as it seems,

He cannot pronounce what it means.

Desiring to go far away,

Unable to find a reason to stay.

He braves the mountains and crosses the seas,

He runs far and wide, and dodges the trees…

He cries, a lone wolf; he’s a soldier of grief,

A warrior, survivor, but never a thief.

The flowers he’s picked along his path

Guise as though he holds no wrath.

But beneath his gaze a heart of stone —

He belongs not up on his throne.

But his throne is another lie he has spoken,

Another vow, another promise he has broken.

Because the man is lonesome and knows no home,

His mindful journey, a road to roam.

Dangerous and beautiful it is to wonder;

Thoughts cloud his soul like lightning and thunder.

A storm is arriving later the sun.

His foe has declared, the war has begun.

The judge knows not what this man hides;

As a noble criminal, his story has sides.

What he wants to obtain, he cannot reach;

No Man believes a word from his speech.

Perhaps his tale truly has no end;

How sad it must be for him to pretend.

A lone wolf cries but makes no sound.

A lone wolf longs for a home yet unfound.