Everything about him, the real him, was poorly hidden away behind luxurious facades, cold metal accessories and meaningless gestures.
But what was so different and intriguing about him was everything he was beneath it all.
The way his mind often overflowed and wandered down dangerous paths, the way his cold metal accessories was bought after months of hard work and how he longed for something more.
He was a wanderer in search for something more that could earn him remembrance by legacy. He was constantly weighted down by his need to do something more, a heavy weight to bear for the tied down.
He was put in this world for a reason and he couldn't leave this place without achieving whatever this was. But this place didn't contain what he was reaching for, it never had.
And so he was once boy, now a guy and soon a man who was damned to forever inhabit a wanderer tied in the shackles of expectations.
He was the desserts heat, the tired but content laughter you'd share by the camp fire after a long hike, he was the road's dust stirred up by hurried cars, he was the 'far away land' in every fairytale you've ever been told and he was the sleepless nights that we all had when our minds refused to let go of that one thing.
He was him, and only those who followed along got to know what he being him actually meant.
YOU ARE READING
The lioness
PoetryDon't we all overthink once in a while? I just like to write everything down until I can get my head out of my ass and get to writing real, legit novels. (which I'm actually working on.. Kind of)
