Sadder than a souless wanderer
Is a bodiless soul.
When a wanderer dies
Their life ceases to exist but they still ARE.
After the body whithers away,
there is still poof
that there had once been a life
Regardless of how lifeless it may have been,
But a detached soul
Is forever doomed to haunt this earth.
Never at rest, Never at peace
Always looking and longing for home,
Always seeking and reeling for relief of tired feet
It moves from body to body
Taking possession of those it abides in
Taking advantage of its years.
An old soul is a wise one But it is sad and immensely lonely,
S a d a n d l o n e l y I n d e e d.