Traveling on and on for so very long , no place to call a home I need to rest ,to sleep at best yet doggedly on I go alone.
Many places I have been and cities I have seen , with palaces of gold and history’s untold , pyramids of Giza, colleseum of Rome and China’s great wall , I’ve been a passing witness , been there done that seen the empires fall .
But something inside will not let me stop , always moving forward but never back always passing through, It’s my continued failure to linger , longer but that wanderlust is always stronger.
I’ve dined with kings and queens and broken bread with paupers , sailed with pirates on the seven seas fought with sword and hand close quarters .
I’ve marched with mighty armies through jungles wild and balmy , but could never find a way to stay , or the peace of mind to pray for the day when my traveling is done and the wanderlust is gone .
So I travel on and on , north south , east and west I can’t decide which way is best , through deserts parched and arctic tundra compelled I am to keep on wandering.
Now of my travels you may think I’m bragging but it’s all that blasted wanderlust still nagging .
Interesting. It makes me think it’s Death. That must be an exhausting job.
I’d never thought of that , certainly plenty of work .
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