Wanderer

The ink is dry, the lines are blurred
Misdirection is sure, a waste journey for the seeker
This or that, not sure
They held where their instincts scream the most

Image generated using Gemini AI

He chase the ghost of a faded ink
With no familiar path to trust
Hoping that his judgement is right
His fate left for the wild to tell

Yet in the void where the meaning fled,
Between the "was" and the "yet to be,"
A different path begins to spread
Unbound, unmapped, and strangely free