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The Restless Wanderer (rover)

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On the empty space

even the wind elucidating

the dejection

turnig hundreds of faces

at last, falling by the edge of sands

the eyes of soul planting the pertrub

in the day field harvesting the exhaust

sprouts of longing inflamming

grieving..

no more blue in here

become so numb

again

days have the distance

thousands of candles fell in drops

flowing swiftly like the dew

Alone..the wanderer sang

broken but not aggravate

walked back, swinging by tiny steps

searching for oasis in the wind desert

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