The Traveler

He’s seen them at their lowest, in the basement and in the streets with eyes heavy for nothing more than love.

Where they wander lost is where he has found that life can be a circus of tears and unconditional laughter.

Inhabited by the ones who paint their faces and unravel slowly to show invisible wounds so they can heal over time.

He has felt the hatred of society and the ruins we struggle to try to reconstruct into a kingdom made for Heaven.

And even at the hands of bitterness, he has discovered they can carry hope like a bird who been struck by a stone.

Alone and tired, he knows that even after being whipped and tormented that someone will help him carry the cross.

The same crucifix believed to only be worn by those who are worthy appears above him and says he accepted.

For being torn down and born a flower, this man is living proof that even the most fragile can come back in the spring.

Where the clouds have opened up and unleashed their seven seas is the very place he is traveling.

To a world higher than the sun and its light dividing into a spectrum of every color our eyes have yet to witness.

Until then, white witches gather around him as their dove-like wings protect his aura from anything else.

At the end of the show, we have all realized that he is a water drop too pure for Earth and he flows like a river.

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Published by

craneknewitt

I have currently been busy with life and I will be re-publishing older poems. New poems will come. I'm always under construction.

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