The Ragabond

He lives beyond that veil, playing the violin
Painting one rainbow after another
And he wonders a lot, if God exists or not
For he himself grew up without a father

Around his neck is hanged, a sign without a name
Since he is only known as the vagabond
And he wanders a lot, if he should stay or not
For glory seems to drip of the horizon

He begins to pack his bags, fill his pockets, clean his rags
Emptying out the home, he had never had
Tuning out his violin, make it point from out to in
So he'll never forget, where his heart is

And then he ran on off, bringing with him all he owned
So that he, like Noah, could outgrow sin
Then the olive carried doves, made him think of all he loves
But his thoughts came out surprisingly empty

He then found emptiness on the outside, as well as inside
Beating drums that would inspire him
Playing like clockwork in the background, circling around
the poet within that called for him

He started writing, enveloping and then soaking
his own heart, for it wept within
The ground beneath him he was to plow, because he knew how
the world had started those years ago!

He saw that he could start again!
Bringing a world without a sin
He just had to shovel far
Far enough to start a war
Between the loving and the hate
Meeting God outside that gate
Where he could finally find his peace
Disbanding man, and then was gone
To find himself there, all alone!