Laments of a Wanderer

oft I find myself
on the edges of anonymity,
cleft in twain
by a past relentless
and a future mystique,
lost
between timelessness and eternity.

too long have I wondered
about the enormity of the infinite,
of a life
free from the slipping seconds,
illimitable of the death complete.

is it life I seek in death
among the dying embers of
the withering seconds,
or am I trying to forget
a past that could have been lost,
lost, but for the tears
that keep me a mortal still.

a wanderer I am, a wanderer I will be,
alone I walk, with a fate cursed by Thee,
remembered I shall be,
forever and never
by the nameless wind
that bore me across the shining seas,
loved
by the emptiness of a life, with no one in it
save me.

though far have I walked
along the broken road,
not in vain it was
for my feet to carry me along.
voices I heard, telling me to take heed,
there are sorrows still,
sorrows still
that have shied away from me.

they say I know not
the brevity of the trickling time,
of the curse placed on it
by the heathen gods in their blazing skies.
to be forever like sand in a clenched fist,
unable to hold what seeps past,
lost
against its master's own wish.

O wanderer! think
how painful it ought to be,
to have a destiny
wrought in misery.
to truly lose that is gone,
unable to cherish, forbidden to lament,
doomed to forget
that
there was a was,
there was a could have been.

O wanderer! they say to me,
rejoice for you have memories to keep,
places to go, people to meet.
O wanderer rejoice,
for you have memories to keep.