(here and there he goes)
with a torn map in his pocket
and a flask of brew in another
he travels about like something
long lost in the boundary
of now and tomorrow
the water-soaked portrait of a girl
found inside a bottle from the sea
serving as his compass to destiny
a futile attempt at reconciliation
when both of them haven't seen
and looked each other in the eye
star-crossed lovers spanning over
centuries of unrequited love
from village to valleys he wonders
whether she's the one
or maybe her
or probably that girl
does mother nature know best?
(he is weary from the waves and the sun)
but never really knowing if it's all a mirage
and so his search continues to the snow
and the evergreens and the deserts
tripping over rocks and muddy paths
towards the broadening horizon