All eyes on the vagabond
as he strides across the plain.
His roads are like the clouds,
always new, yet full of rain.

Why does he search? What does he seek?
I do not think he knows.
Thats probably what drives him on,
and on and on he goes.

Maybe he has strayed off his path
that he is now trying to find.
Maybe he shouldn’t of listened,
when questioning thoughts first entered his mind.