The Wandering Spirit
She was a wandering spirit
Never truly settled
Never truly satisfied
Floating from place to place
No destination until she died
She was weary and often cried
What had freedom cost her but every tie
This wandering soul tossed like a ship in the storm
Her soul troubled and forlorn
What was her purpose
Why had she even been born
She had felt people scorn
She had had her soul torn
Freedom as it was offered her loneliness
In the end all she had was emptiness
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