The Traveller
Between the deep green pines that stand along this road
The highway runs long and straight carrying its load
The traveller steps out; he’s a hungry man and has no place to go
His wishes shattered long ago, and there’s nothing left to show
In his disgrace he’s lost the race and he spies a lonely crow
This black bird of sorrow brings no hope for tomorrow
But it’s freedom steels his mind and he is left behind
Forced to wander he steppes out, onto this lonely road
He walks; he is confused and is toiling with his load
Along the way there comes a sign warning of a crossroad
A choice to make which road to take the city or the house
He will be shunned on either path; the eyes of those who call
Will do all they can within their breast his only hope to douse
Forsaken then the way to tread he waits another fall
When upon the scene the cloudburst rain and fireball
A flash of light is eyes recover then to see a stranger
Who is this man that before him stands without a trace of anger
In silent hope of no defect a vision or a phantom?
Our tramp steps up, to then accept this hopeful joyous symptom
For in his heart, though nothing said, is this then his redemption?
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