Philosophy of Home
There’s a place far from here
Bigger than the flying sky
Farther than the whispering stars
A long road leads to that lonely place
Passing through the desert
Wading through the forest
Crossing the highest mountains
Alongside a vast grey river
Under the shadows of rusted leaves
There’s a place where I don’t feel alone
It’s a place where I don’t feel lost
A place built of dreams
A place where I feel… Home
And I will be waiting for you
Waiting for you to come Home. . .
winds are a bit cold,
fog gives a unique refreshing bold.
winter is definitely on its way.
I’m finally back at the place,
where I belong,
to my home.
But this home doesn’t feel like before.
People are strange,
their visage is layered with different face,
the smell has an entire new taste,
I can’t hold this emotional state,
tears are rolling down my scarred soul.
I feel alone,
more than ever.
And when I think that perhaps,
it is I who have changed.
Out of all the people,
I hope you understand.