If I stray and see the world, if I head out and explore,
What will I call home?
I walk and paint my steps, I go and I’ll continue.
From life they came, to dust they go, leaving traceless thought.
If I wander and if I see, will what I’ve seen be lost?
And if my thoughts excel from then, will ‘then’ cease to exist?
If my expectation changes and if what I’m expected fails.
If its essence still is beautiful, I’ll cherish mixed relief.
If questions find their answers, those that have been there all along,
Should I not have asked?
What’s hidden should be found, what’s found then should be lost.
Not to seek, just to remember. Not to know, but just to feel.
If I’m inclined to lose my way, and if I refuse to find it,
Will my road bend on its own, and lay out trails to follow?
If I stray and see the world, I know I will be lost.
I’m good at getting lost, I’m bad at being found, I’m worst at coming home.
To stay would be to give away,
And I can’t yet accept to leave,
That feeling if I stray.