Searching for solace,
and feeling cursed to wander,
I walk around with my Jesus piece seeking redemption.
Will I ever be worthy to lift the hammer, I've often pondered.
They’re drawn by the rhythms
that speak to their hearts,
but nary a tune I can hear!
Others follow the path made by the stars.
I have wandered, hoping to see its end,
yet, it's my end that seems more likely.
The weight of expectation
-that itself, is the genesis of story.
No salvation in sight;
perhaps, I am cursed to wander.
Not all who wander are lost, they said.
I guess we just haven't crossed paths yet.
Atonement not in sight, still I search and pray.
Still, Still, I search.