The Stranger

Upon a flat Desert
They wander,
The Stranger.

The Sun beats down
yet they feel nothing
The land is hot, the light bright
yet they sense nothing.

A black cloak bedecks them
a sense of emptiness fills them
The Mad God's mantle and mask
lies discarded for the sand to cover them.

They are empty and without purpose.
Yet wit, wonder, love,
hope and humanity
shines somewhere deep in their eyes
if not in their heart.

The world turns around them
but they feel lost and alone.
To people, to passion, to the world
and to themselves they remain
A Stranger.

They wander on.
Do any Wonder?