For those born to seek,
there is no peace.
The search is in their blood
and even death will not
quench their thirst for wondering.
No answer found
will satiate the questions
asked by hollow and driven wayfarers.
The road upon which they journey,
ever taunts them with the new unknown.
They will never know a bed of comfort.
They toss and turn about,
tormented by half truths
and secrets left uncovered.
There is no time in their lives for certainty,
for that is the end.
That is Death.
Their cup is half full,
but it fills no further.
All the oceans of the world
would never overflow
such unquenchable souls.
Each one unto themselves
a vessel,
unsatisfied with the knowledge of mankind.
Vagrant minds that know only hunger,
reach for the highest trees
to taste the fruit of gods.
Agape with wonder,
traversing over vast distances,
only to catch a sniff
of some new atmosphere.
Delving deep into the far darkness
that disheartens even the bravest men,
merely to understand in their own hearts
what truly dwells in blackness.
Unmoored nomads,
doomed to drift
out into the world
on deep currents
never felt
by the harbor bound.
HG – 2016
