The Road, The Riddle

The Road, The Riddle

I have the mist of the dawn in my mind
The things I see are few
With my fingers,
Through the darkness
I feel my long way through
No clue about the route
But the lighthouse
which my conscience follows
It's a welcoming sun,
a forever-telling sign

I keep from the world my clumsiness
Well hidden, just like me
With that secret,
My mask created,
I came exactly to be
What others want to see
But the moonlight
which pierces through my facade
It paints my gracelessness
To the world, it’s my worst

I listen to the wind - the blues,
The orders, the pain
With the mist aloud,
That thundercloud
The brightness and the rain
the noises blind and maim
But the mystery journey
is never beneath me
I pick myself up
This wandering manMust wander once again