The Wanderer

 

I am the wanderer,
among dancing spheres of light
ignoring the passers-by
for they seem to fear the night

the wind whispers my name —
hello casual shadow apprentice
the mysterious alleys play with my life
any one of them can end it

chills rush down my spine
invigorating intrusions of thoughts commence
senses heightened to hostility
mind laced with narcotic raw suspense

strangers in the city
hollow shells of human interactions
a little cognitive dissonance
and they split into their factions

my eyes are but a mirror
at the helm of self-projected expectations
existence just as questioned
in a realm of self-constructed limitations

here lay the archetypes
strewn across a jungle deemed concrete
I gave them only basic validation,
the kind they seemed to need

I saw brutality in vanity
in a girl which still despairs
I told her neutrality is sanity
in a world which will not care

I felt the destitution of a madman
collecting carts of trash
his classic answer was the bottle
which he thinks contains his past

I heard the prophet of the corner
raising his voice in majestic certainty
to make not us, but himself believe
in a concept called eternity

I shook the hands of a wiseman
disguised in the attire of a fool
when asked if death dismayed him
I thought he’d be a liar; he told the truth

I carried conversations with myself
over dial-tones enigmatic
I stood in front of television stores
just to hear the static

returning from the wandering
the clarity of the midnight air inhaled
I sought the solitude free from reason
the disparity of consciousness prevailed

my burden of analysis
falls on shoulders that won't hold
cold dead eyes of calculation
betray a soul I've never sold