Drifter

A short poem

Photo by Javardh on Unsplash

Dazzled by the beauty of

daydreams that form

webs and webs of ideal fantasies

Like spiders, crawling

from the deep corners of his mind

Spinning and spinning endlessly

Dizzied by all the possibilities

of his inner desires

What they could mean

What they could lead him to

And for a nomadic soul like his,

time will always be the gatekeeper

to the realms of his reality

Dictating his consciousness,

to the point of stilled madness

Barely able to breathe

Asphyxiated dreams,

warning him of his pace

He must not move too fast or too slow

A decision must be made

How his heart yearns for the truth

For someone to say it so

in a voice or sign, like a gift from God

Though, no one will come

Such heroes don’t exist