The Traveler

I am a traveler,

I have watched the grand passage

Of times most intimate details.

I have looked into the darkness

And seen in its brilliance,

That light once pierced would not,

Be taken away by darkness.

I have moved in the circles of angels,

Their wings light and airy,

Touching only the skin in soft

Sensuous touches.

I have had congress with the fallen,

Those who in a moment of weakness

Did not see the passage of truth

And grew from their weaknesses.

I have watched the monster,

Though he may be not so monstrous

Once my sword writes his name

I have seen the ancient past

Where magic and wisdom in moments

Of domination became religion and belief.

Why do I travel? Well my friend,

My travels are my own,

A lone quest, a journey for answers,

The questions? Not important.

I will know them when the answers come,

I will see when the glow of remembrance

Has finally faded into antiquity.

My footsteps long faded into dust.

My passage is time, a simple

Yet insurmountable foe, where

In the brilliance of a moment, all things

Are revealed within their truths

And I, the traveler, move on.

Authors Note:  This one came in a final push so I didn't edit it much.  Perhaps I will in the future.  This is what a first draft looks like.