The Wonderer

.... It returns .... 

Like an unappeased spirit, it goes and returns. 

Taunting mi. Beckoning mi. Cajoling mi. Taunting mi. 

It watches. 

Never far away, silently mocking mi. Waiting. 

It leaves, and for a moment, the rush is back. 

I feel it in my veins. 

I can breathe. 

I am free once more to chase the high. 

The high that continues to elude mi. 

The high it lets me get close to but never attain. 

Then it returns. 

Taunts mi. Mocks mi. 

I sit in the fog and wait till it leaves once more. 

Wait till it is bored of mi once more. 

Till it is ready to move again. 

Then my peace returns and the wonderer resumes. 

I sit and wait. 

.... I sit and await the return of the fickle mistress ....