The Wanderer

I recently stumbled upon this poem that I had written way back when I was in highschool.

The Wanderer

Trapped beneath a pillared sky,
Ran the river raging wild.
Weeping willows’ bent confusion,
In the mist she softly cried.

Damp and cold, a dreary burden.
As the lasting painful night,
Creeps upon the destined future,
Then again was heard a sigh.

Through the woods a lonely cabin,
All secluded and forgotten.
Hidden well, a mellowed shelter.
Time abandoned, left for nigh.

From the dust there came a wanderer
Meek and weary, he was hungry.
Destination had no purpose
For the cabin claimed no life.

Deep within the cabins entrance
Grew a single, lonely flower.
Weary wanderer grasped the flower,
Held it to his weary cheek.

This is life, he then remembered
Here within the cabin hidden.
Fragile flower, soon a symbol
Of his love so long forgotten.

Withered slowly, dried, now lifeless.
High a starless sky of night.
What remained were fragile petals
Of a love so long forgotten.

Hidden deep within a cabin
Lost and lonely in the woods.