Withering vagabond
Drawn too thin
How many miles
Span beneath your skin?

The thriving wilderness
Beckons your name
Its triumphant bounty
Bears all the blame

Hovering darkness
Can never fully recede
For it takes with instinct
Then falls and concedes

Withering vagabond
Your wandering time ails
For you’ve nowhere left
To spin your treacherous tales

The lonesome homestead
Is where you’ll flounder and flail
With worry your king
To leave your stories frail

Hovering sorrows
Drive the silent to kin
Expelled from lushest reveries
To the comfort of foreign skin

Withering vagabond
Where will you cleave today?
For your words have all been spent
And so madly led astray