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Wake of the Wandering

I cannot deny
That deadly gleam
in his piercing eyes

Yet his ever-fatal disposition
Leaves us helpless
In spite of ambitions

Don't cry, now
Little One
But he's not coming
And he'll never come
Never come

His name
He has no one

He is not tender
Nor ever will be
It's better off
Just us three

And we'll dry the tears
From your darling eyes
And cover the tracks
Of his vacant lies

Now, now my love
Stiffen your lip
He does not know
Of the crack of his whip

Of his own downfall
Yet his lingering absence
Bears a scare to us all

Alas, Beware of his gentle hug!
When he leaves
What of it then?

The wandering kind
Little One
Are the most dangerous of men

For home is extinct
And family demolished
There is nothing left
For his heart to abolish

I do pity you
Oh Wandering man
For how do you sleep
To the breeze of a fan
The hollowness of your walls
And what's left of your spirit

We have a heart and a home
And you're nowhere near it
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Submitted on January 16, 2021

Modified by WallflowerPoetry

58 sec read

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