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Rated: E · Poetry · Environment · #2200659
Wanderlust. To see what is over that next horizon. What will I find there?
When does it die
this feeling inside?
that carries me on
with each coming dawn
I sail with the tide
the waters to ride

No place my home
forever to roam
sun on the high
sea blue as the sky
takes me away
from each place I stay

from lovers who lay
but just for a day
for then I am gone
with the coming of dawn
I sail with the tide
the waters to ride
When does it die
this feeling inside?



G. Gabriel
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