Seeking the warmth of a heart that truly understands.
Through the tempest of time, it's tossed and turned,
In the labyrinth of life, it's lost and yearns.
The soul's a nomad, a pilgrim in the night,
Whispers of home echo in the silent fight.
It's a shadow in the crowd, a silent tear in the rain,
A tale of the ages, a tale in vain.
The world spins on, the moments fleeting by,
Faces come and go, indifferent as the sky.
The soul's a ghost, a specter in the crowd,
A whisper of life, unheard, unloved, unpraised.
In the cacophony of the world's loud song,
The soul's melody is but a forlorn wrong.
It's a ship without a port, a bird without a nest,
A dreamer in the fog, with no rest.
The eternal sorrow, the never-ending quest,
For a place to call home, for a purposeful test.
The soul's the gypsy, the hermit in the wild,
A wanderer in time, with a heart that's childlike.
In the grandeur of the stars, the soul does climb,
Searching for the light that will end the endless chime.
It's a story of the ages, a tale of the old,
A saga of the soul, forever told.
So let the world turn, let the moments flee,
The soul will wander, until eternity.
In the quiet of the heart, where love does dwell,
The wandering soul shall find its final swell.