Homeless or spaceless, or the urge to travel,
The wanderer was asked many questions and unravel,
Eyes sprinkling sparks all over the place,
Beauty of the creation, occupying his memory space,
Peace followed him with every step he took,
His answers made all those around him strangely look,
People always got amazed by his tranquil nature,
The world and its people made him mature
Never liking to stay at a place for so long,
His feet trodded the path, singing its own song,
The pack he carried, never bore him,
Travelling was an addictive whim
Places and nature welcomed him everytime,
The buildings and bridges recieved him with chime,
Flora and fauna eyed him with a trance,
He would never let go of this chance.
