Wandering Poem by Chris Noir

Wandering and loudly dreaming,
Think I better than believing,
Any stray path, so deceiving,
No matter how brightly clear,

Walking further calm and breathing,
Air so sweet and smoke misleading,
Never shall it spark the meaning,
That so often comes with fear.


Paradise is where I'm striding,
Whether downpour or sun be shining,
And I don't find myself denying,
The cost of my freedoms gleam,

To hell, to fire or to battle,
Towards the snake's tail that rattles,
When the mirror finally shatter,
You too will know, it's just a dream.