Through the dead lands I had roamed,
A nomad with a defunct soul.
My hat has hung in many places,
Though they never felt my own.
The burning sun drained my spirit,
My heart dehydrated as I walked.
Obsession to find strength and comfort
Guided my journey and found me lost.
Delusions of existence grand lead my eyes astray,
Desert mirages beckon me to false hope.
My crusade to find a place of comfort
Becomes a fragile return from hell.
I turn my eyes toward the blackened clouds
And follow them towards the rain.
It welcomes me with storming downpour
To wash away my woes and pain.
My home is found on the edge of a storm
Where rain puddles collect outside my door,
Gathering life and fulfillment plenty,
Helping my spirit to nourish and grow.
The journals within are about my life,
My journeys to find home.
I am home, now...
I have found a place where I am truly happy.
Please tread light with your judgements upon entering,
I don't like my carpet getting dirty.
What you'll find in this folder:
"Invalid Item" : For the lighter side of life.
Sometimes angst spills into the pages of this blog, but mostly not.
"Invalid Item" : My real life and experiences.
Beware of angst!
"Invalid Item" : I learned something new everyday.
Discussion on what I learned and applying it to what I know.
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