thoughts [poetry book vol. 1]

41 // man

POEM #41: MAN

He rose alone — the first of his kind;
Bearing nothing but his wandering mind.
A world is built anew, no codes to obey,
No stifling noise, all the time to play.

The air was still, there are no beasts around,
He carried his spirit, up the riddled ground.
Branches on hand, the sky his muse,
A pulse started trembling — his novel excuse.

Through untouched fields, he began his path,
Leading to the core, the haze and its aftermath.
He stands tall — stirring up wild dreams,
Ruled by nature's laws, watching the streams.

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