Curse of the Restless

Lonely sighs are like battle cries in the quiet mind of the bearer.

No one espies the shroud, a guise, upon the shoulders of the wearer.

Many may wonder and be a’wary of the burdened wanderer.

Many tale a’tells of the eerie spell.

What craft provokes the weary to wander even as they wane?

To wander on, even though wander they in vain.

Move they shall, the mind before the feet to chase the fate from which they seek to retreat.

A fate never seen or spoken of aloud, save from the mouths avowed to it.