As the curtains,
Begin to close
On my Windowpanes,
Who knows?
I'm so uncertain,
Uncertain,
About the way this goes....
And I've been searching,
I've just been searching,
But for whom,
Nobody knows,
Still I'm uncertain,
'Cause there's so many paths,
I don't know where to go,
If life came
With a manual,
I'd have likely had a home,
Maybe family,
And maybe friends,
And maybe something of
My own...
Perhaps satisfaction,
Or maybe action,
But tonight I
Ride on alone...
Just a lone wolf,
Still uncertain,
Who wonders
When he'll find
A home...
This poem is dedicated to myself and those like me. The wanderers. The hermits. The wise ones who choose to discard the monotony of society in exchange for the chance to experience true life on their own terms.
This is dedicated to the Tribes, Still out there, living as we should be, as one and at peace.
--Kris Fireheart, Wolfpack tribe, second chair.
