I waited for the lonely man seems I waited half my life. I waited till the colours poured out of existence. I waited till the birds fell from the clouds like black stones. I waited till there was nothing but scribbles and impressions. Then he came, lonely man. Along a road that was only an idea, where his shadow was my eye. We met with a certain embrace, knowing the time at last had come and with his arm across my shoulder he led me back to home.
The search is over ....comfort in finding an inner meaning and reality you thought wasn't there.