whole yacht
Same day, same routine.
Moments pass, time fades.
Another month, another week.
What am I looking for?
I wish desire could speak.
For Im roaming known lands,
Without an idea or a plan.
A mindless motion that makes me weak.
Unmotivated,
Lost.
Travelling lands with a map
Yet the keys been erased.
Don't these lands look the same?
I mumble to myself while I roam,
Is there more colour than vivid green?
I question mindlessly as I cross the plain.
How am I supposed to find my way,
If the land I roam looks all the same?
hearty cairn
light plaza