The Wanderer of unknown: A poem

To where the river flows
The place nobody sees 
To there my secret goes 
When somebody speaks 

To blue gardens in snow 
I alone now flees 
To the hills that we go
When I am no more to be seen 

To the forgotten lands 
I walk through the sand
To the shallow little plants
I had longed to keep in my hand

To the fallen people below 
I bow now very low 
To me for being alone 
I am a wanderer of unknown 

– Jan @jahnavigouri