Sadder than a souless wanderer

Is a bodiless soul. 

When a wanderer dies 

Their life ceases to exist but they still ARE. 

After the body whithers away, 

there is still poof

that there had once been a life

Regardless of  how lifeless it may have been,

But a detached soul

Is forever doomed to haunt this earth. 

Never at rest, Never at peace

Always looking and longing for home, 

Always seeking and reeling for relief of tired feet

It moves from body to body

Taking possession of those it abides in

Taking advantage of its years.

An old soul is a wise one But it is sad and immensely lonely,

S   a   d          a     n    d           l    o   n    e    l   y         I   n   d   e   e  d.