Blurry it was
Shining from afar;
Raising his hope so high,
With his dead bones becoming alive;
Energizing the eagerness to draw near

Alas, it was not a wasted journey
All the days of suffering,
Bitter, battered but not better;
The expedition of a wanderer,
He won’t hesitate to find rest

Driven with the blurriness of a light
No one can tell if it is sparkling;
Frankly, he cared less,
With all gaze fixed on something;
A resting place for his wandering soul

Keep moving he said,
Disregarding the thorn cutting his head;
The journey was coming to an end,
As he approached the broken glasshouse
Anywhere to rest for a wanderer

And rest he did found, with thorn and in a broken glasshouse.



The Wanderer, Thorn and Glasshouse.
Judeoo (2020)