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Lost Traveler
#WritcoPoemPrompt22
He drops on the sandy folds,
Of a deathly bed,
A lost traveler of a mighty desert,
Parched throat, cracked skin,
He is his own Messiah,
Or another vagabond victim... Is this all for me. Is this the end. Will this vagabond not come out of this. For he has pulled himself up from worse but he has never felt so tired and weary as he does now. Oh, Messiah I may be but I'm not gonna live to see. I quit, I quit. No longer do I care. I quit, I quit. I'm laying down and have let the fight flow out of me. I quit...
© Matilda Hodges
He drops on the sandy folds,
Of a deathly bed,
A lost traveler of a mighty desert,
Parched throat, cracked skin,
He is his own Messiah,
Or another vagabond victim... Is this all for me. Is this the end. Will this vagabond not come out of this. For he has pulled himself up from worse but he has never felt so tired and weary as he does now. Oh, Messiah I may be but I'm not gonna live to see. I quit, I quit. No longer do I care. I quit, I quit. I'm laying down and have let the fight flow out of me. I quit...
© Matilda Hodges
