Vagrant's Call

Just a little existential angst spawned by quiet moments louder than they have the right to be.

I'm out of reasons,

I'm out of rhymes,

I travel lost, broken, blind.

Here, shipwrecked in time,

Tossed within this wreckage

Laid by the vestige

Of a sacred fall.

Fit only with this call,

On this sliver of debris.

How strange that I should be

Anything, anything at all.