Ennui Is Wanderlust

What is this place I have been sent to see? Is my travel bug an infirmity?

I could wander each the seven seas, And feel most at home estranged from those around me.

Long-term forces shaping our history, Long-distances separating plateau and valley.

A stranger on earth but at home on tour, Observer of all and thirsting for more.

Ennui is wanderlust.

Could I make it work again? Is this but a pause in a life of travel and adventure? A time to lick my wounds and mourn my brother? His death is my death, no problem there. But what to do with life's emergent despair?

Can't swim in the same river twice, Can't play the same song night after night. So I'll pick up the pieces and make them anew, Rearranging myself into something besides the blues.

Looking through shattered beliefs, Waking up each day checking my feet. I'm here for who knows how many more days, So I'll set out by sunrise and see things his way.