29 July 2012
Pink sky, and crimson lakes,
My homeland,
in my mind I will not forsake.
A traveler of distant lands am I
But none are pleasing to my eye.
I long for my rolling hills of Gerbygilled stalks,
Twisting in the breeze,
Oh! How I miss those walks!
Meandering through valleys of pearly white Pickertees,
Listening to the plaintive sighs of lonely Dinderlees.
I long to return to my place of birth.
I'm tired of this blue sphere they call Earth.
Oh! To swim again in the lakes of Giddydoor
Where the waters of gold lap upon the shores.
I pine for the nights, please grant me my will, to see the hairy moon of Killiogore bouncing upon the hills.
I am a heartsick traveler,
In an endless flight
I weep tears of diamond dust each and every night.
I long for my place of birth to cure this aching pain.
I want to end this mission and see my homeland once again.
Lonely Traveler • Opuss № I