I have the mist of the dawn in my mind
The things I see are few
With my fingers,
Through grey darkness
I feel my long way through
No clue about the route
But the lighthouse which my conscience follows
It burns right,
a welcoming sun,
a forever-telling sign

I keep from the world my clumsiness
Well hidden, just like me
With that secret,
My mask created,
I came exactly to be
What others want to see
But the moonlight which pierces through my facade
It justly paints
my gracelessness
To the world, it’s my worst

I listen to the wind, the blues
The orders, and the pain
With the mist aloud,
That thundercloud
The brightness and the rain
the noises blind and maim
But the mystery journey is never beneath me
I pick myself up
This wandering man
Must wander once again

*** Header image by Justin Luebke on Unsplash 

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POETRY | Strangers by Aad

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