The Escape to Nowhere

She’s an aimless wanderer,
her ashy hair tangling as she goes.

Serenity is etched onto her face,
a confusing state for other souls.

Lonesome strides are a sinner’s game,
her frequency higher, serene, not the same.

Weltschmerz consumes her, yet she strides in spite.
She runs with no aim, no thrive for perfection
for the word is man-made.

She sees no ends, no norm, no reflection,
just an aimless wanderer, any judgement in vain.

She runs no direction, no reflection, no name.
A courageous, faceless piece of earth,
surrounded by insane.

All and nowhere.

One thought on “The Escape to Nowhere

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