This prompt is a problem for me
I’ll address with a certain brevity.
Writing about what makes me whole?
I can’t, I’m not, don’t know anyone who is.
Next best thing?
Okay, of this I have a string.
Things that make me less broken
Of these I’ve long ago spoken.
The wind and the tide
In my dreams they reside,
Rising and falling predictably,
Something needs to be.
The change of the seasons
All the colours with such reasons,
Constant and never changing
Like his love for me.
One day I will be whole
Oh yes his works I extol,
When he comes back again
To chase away every shadow.
– Vagabond Prophet
Vagabond Prophet 