A slight variation of Wanderer, Wanderer. Hoping to turn it into a song soon, possibly in a collab with a friend.
Wanderer, wanderer, where do you sleep?
On the lonely road, do you rest your feet?
Lay your weary head in caverns deep?
Or tallest tower of dusty keep?
Wanderer, wanderer, how far have you come?
From over the hills of the setting sun?
On how many roads have your worn boots run?
In what distant land will your journey’s end come?
Oh wanderer, wanderer, where are you going?
To greenest fields where seeds they are sowing?
To driest canyons that sing with wind’s blowing?
Or to distant mountains, where always it’s snowing?
My wanderer, wanderer, you’ve come to journey’s end.
Rest your tired feet and let them mend.
The name of wanderer, to someone else lend.
For wander no more, you have found me, my friend.
This poem I eventually hope to do as a song. Written while abroad in Spain, during a particularly heavy downpour. Alternate title is “Mother Nature”
The walls, they ring,
And the windows are clattering.
Outside in the storm,
The heavens are shattering.
The thunder rolls on,
It’s pounding the sky.
It rattles our bones,
To remind us we’re alive.
Had a story concept involving a band but I didn’t end up liking it much. I did however save one of the songs that they would have sung. So mentally read this with a Paramore-style rock sound and female singer.
Your old glories,
They look so perfect in your mind
It’s so much brighter,
You’re a better fighter,
When it’s viewed through the mists of time.