Friend of Stars, Not of men.

Note: This is a poem I wrote during my 'exile' from Blogger. Thought I'd post it here. Also found at Plumcakes and cigarettes
Fiddling a fiddle,
as fickle as life,
He walks amongst women and men,
Not their kin, never their lover,
The great stars, his only mate,
Those sparkling planets, that held his fate,
His lonely eyes on the road,
His bare feet a carving zone,
for rocks and stones,
old and new, jagged and blunt,

He heard them say,
Away with him, that desperate soul,
He who lives in our midst,
but is neither our kin, nor our lover,
He heard them say,
Frown your nose, turn your face,
Don't lose yourselves,
He is neither your kin nor your lover,
Turn away, that desperate begger,

On the crossroads,
He wipes his cheek,
Dries his eyes,
He looks not back,
He who lived,
In their midst,
He who never were their kin
Nor their lover,

Off he sets on his path,
Blazed by stars,
His eternal mates,
That lonely soul,
On his road,
seeking home,
where can he go,
That hermit soul,
Who had no brother,
And knew no lover,
lost in the abyss,
Of shattered dreams.                                                                               - Aaiz A.