The Untold Story

I have long known a strange man,
His identity, a complete mystery,
He seemed content to wander without a plan,
Saying: 'I will know when I meet it on my journey'.

Not a sigh escaped his lips,
As he pursued his aimless task,
Uncaring for what draped his hips,
Not a worry lined his tranquil mask.

In pity I once offered companionship,
Or maybe it was vague curiosity,
But he gently declined my friendship,
Responding: 'My path must be walked solitarily'.

He pursued ever onward so tirelessly,
Answering the unseen beacon,
This statuesque figure of forsaken majesty,
Traversed roads never to be beaten.

I do not know what it was about him,
Maybe his peaceful demeanor,
Yet some foreign fury seized my whim,
And I demanded he abandon his endeavor.

Then out of the stony depths of his gaze awoke,
A noble wisdom that shook me,
An aura of power cloaked his words as he spoke,
'Existence is the untold story'.