The Wanderer

The Wanderer

This lonely place I wander by.

Desolate fields, under stone grey sky.

This place it looks as if life has gone.

Where birds never sing and sun never shone.
 

I wander over moor and hill.

This empty place, it stands stock still.

The dark dank earth on which I tread.

This silence eerie, it feels me with dread.
 

There's nothing here, no life to see.

A fog is rising, it's surrounding me.

A voice arises from within the mist.

"Why do you wander? Why persist"?
 

 I answered the voice within the haze.
 

"I look for my answers I look for my place.

I've wandered for hours maybe for days."

My memory jumbled, really unclear.

I'm missing something but I have no idea.
 

The voice in the mist responded to me.
 

 "Not hours nor days you've wandered for years"

 Your heart filled with sadness, your eyes filled with tears.

The comrades you've lost, they see you in pain.

They want you to join them, in their final parade."
 

Again, I answered.
 

"But, I know they are gone, I saw when they fell.

 The battle was long we all endured hell.

I've seen such things, such awful things.

My heart it aches with what memory brings.

I have chosen this path, I have chosen this way.

I must carry on, I have a debt to repay.
 

The voice answered again
 

"You all fought together, as one you did fall.

Some passed on, others did stall,

Filled with guilt, you continue to wander

It's time now to stop, to look over yonder."

The mist it is lifting I see figures now,

I recognise friends from a time long ago.

My heart is longing to join them today.

My soul feels lifted to see them again.
 

A tentative step, arms open for me.

I realise now, I'm beginning to see.

My comrades in arms they're my family.

My wandering finished. I'll not dwell on the past.

I'm with my friends now.

I can rest at last
 

John Steward