segunda-feira, 26 de janeiro de 2026

I the vagabond wanderer part 2

 Out here where the cattle walk
I have made my temporary home
through their trotter tracks
Endless muddy prints

When constabulary comes I'm concealed
Just eyes through leaves
No sign of me
A phantom, a legend, a rumour

When I enter town I'm cloaked and masked
Questions beat and I'm silent
I get my supplies few even bat an eye
I got my lopsided stride

My clove tobacco
My eye as sharp as my blade
For the night on the road
Comes with unprovoked teeth

Beyond my knife and staff
It's all open wounds waiting to happen
For the darkness robs and extorts
Until I coalesce violently

Keeping blood far from the cattle track
Bodies out of sight
within the range of the slink
By dusk they howl

I vagabond, becoming it's father
Instead of it's game


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