The Wanderer
By kasura
I saw the wanderer, singing his lamentation at the sea. His raiment in tatters, his eyes bearing grievous woes, the haggard face devoid of faded glories. Harsh winds whipped his unnumbered tears astray, fallen like pearls down to the moss-covered rocks. He halted not his songs, his voice raw from wrestling against the howling torrents.
O the enchanted mists swirled under the waning moon, shrouding the accursed one from prying eyes. He wove a tragic tale with his golden harp, the fall of seven fair brothers, and three splendid jewels that promised salvation, one that the sea bore away from his marred hand. I wept, may the tears lessen his heavy doom. His eyes wondrous bright, evoke the might of raging flames. He forsook sustenance, favored fey walk on the silvery shore. The dying waves consumed his footprints, leaving the lily-white sands unspoiled. I longed to smooth his frowning brows, to console his worn body. But his eyes were blind to me, always hunting a ray of glorious light, which slept beneath the roaring emerald sea.
The wanderer was gone, mayhap to haunt other less desolate places, for the sea had drowned his yearnings in its unforgiving waves. I mourned for him, for his voice was fair despite laden with crushing sorrow, and I wished, on the white billowy foams, that he could find the solace he sought, beneath the dimming sun.
Author's Note:
I wrote this piece as a companion to my picture. To see the pic, please go to my website at kasura.100megsfree5.com, click on Fan Art and look for 'The Wanderer'.