The Wanderer.

Lander One

I had seen your tears and listened to your prayers

Salt crystals and voice recordings were a daily delivery

Black smoke muted your voices when you cursed at me

I too felt your soul cracking as you descended into the depths of pain,

the heat on your back as you learned of the traitor’s blade.

I watched, I waited

Doing so birthed my own little hell

So I came down to dowse its flames

From door-to-door, I moved, hoping to help

Many blocked their doorway for I was dressed in torn garments

They had forgotten to see with the spirit and look with their eyes,

yet another victory for Deception.

But the cancer patient’s mother dared not forget

I had a platform of foam and not mountain rocks for a bed

As we dined in the dark, I called the rain to make them sleep

My energy raced across the…

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