Pilgrim on a quest without a compass.
Just a watch that charges for every hours
leading to the dissolution of the self .
Guardian of the blasphemous grass.
Cosmic drift of the senses.
Capricious fate ,with the air of a femme fatale,
I love tasting your alluring venom ,
running away at dawn ,
quietly coming back at night
for my chastisement ...
But ,I know you're indulgent
toward the impertinent voyager...
I know you my impermanent avatar,
You, who drag your delirium
through the shipwreck of a blank page ...
I met you during the silence
of the great depression ...
Voiceless children reaching out
toward extinguished stars that spun dizzyingly
in an endless dance of death ...
So ,I became an actor in fantasy trilogies
for cloudwalkers who miss their umbilicus !
shaman of the four seasons ,
old seductive showman ...
What would be god without me ?
I do not ask for mercy for my wanderings !
celestial tramp in search of alchemical hoaxes .
false prophet ,teaching the law to these pisces
born of the tide and now reduced to sand ...
and so,I fled from global pretenses !
Ho Barabbas! I am telling you :
'' Don't look back to contemplate the path,
because it will remind you of these beloved remorses !
That 's how you will renounce to your craziness
to carry your cross to Golgotha ! ''
Pilatus, offer the traveler a little of your water !
May my soul ,cleansed of the dust of history .
I'm just the hiker ...
-
Author:
lorenz (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: September 7th, 2026 11:04
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 7
- Users favorite of this poem: Ellen Marsell, Tristan Robert Lange

Offline)
Comments4
a fine write, enjoyed
Our true identity lies at our feet ...
but we so often hide it
A poem of inner pilgrimage, where each image leads to another, tracing a path through a vast landscape of associations.
The traveler in search of answers becomes the question that walks !
Divine words of a cosmic traveler washed in the tides of time.
You are dust deposited by the cosmic tide .
Break out the Hoover
Lorenz, I connect with writing that lets wandering be its own form of truth rather than treating it as failure. Thereโs something deeply human in refusing easy certainty and continuing on anyway. Really enjoyed this, my friend. ๐น๐ค๐๐ฏ๏ธ๐ฆโโฌ
I am that pilgrim who walks the path of religion without accepting the dogmas!
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.