I walked. Wanderlust. It didn’t matter where I was going. It didn’t matter whether I dropped dead or lived on. A heart and a beat are all I need. I walked with the destination of somewhere in the middle of nowhere. I breathed in the mythical sense of freedom I’ve longed for since I was a child. My life was claimed, and my soul unchained. Wanderlust, I walked on. My mind was set, and my feet never ceased to move. I could suddenly feel again. I closed my eyes and heard the sound of the wind calling me into its embrace. I left the land of inhumanity behind. I left the merciless coldness to its ignorant hosts, and I walked on.

     My fear of living in the cage of my mind was behind. The swelling feeling of never belonging to a home was gone. Home was never in one place, or in one person. Not for me it wasn’t. It is everywhere and nowhere. It settles in the heart of the lands where the music came from the voices of the people, and the land belonged to everyone and no one. Being bound became my myth. Being dragged behind became a blurred dream. It didn’t matter anymore. Nothing and no one mattered anymore. My life was mine, and mine alone. I walked on, wanderlust.

    My mind is my empire. My dreams became my reality. Nightmares of the life I have lived survived, but in scars that hurt no more. Battlefields that were formed by pain and blood were forgotten-left behind in the winds of the past. Shattered and broken, I walked on till I mended my own wounds piece by piece. Difficulty proved to be beauty in disguise. Tears became life to an unwanted soul. My unwanted core had a purpose to live, to strive, to feel, to see, to walk on…wanderlust.

      Gravity became levity. I became the center of a world I could finally call mine. I was no master or slave. Rules were denied, and my mind wandered to the possibility of being free of a host. A host that left it feeling earthly and bound. A host that kept it thinking and dreaming. A host that never seemed to leave a worry behind. A host that couldn’t let go and grant itself the luxury of selfishness. A host that was the bridge between this soul’s misery and its deserved liberty. The mind did what it had to do. It moved on…wanderlust.

      The host dropped dead and I woke up. My mind was back where it belonged, and gave me back the life I no longer know why I hold on to so dearly to my heart. I looked straight into darkness. I didn’t want to wake up to another day of uninspired routines. I didn’t want to live on in this world I no longer believe holds a single hope. Hope…I held on to that word as I closed my eyes and fell into an eternal sleep. I never woke up, but my soul walked on…wanderlust.

      A heart and a beat were no longer needed. The soul walked on with the destination of somewhere in the middle of nowhere…wanderlust.

Anoubin-Lebanon. By Miro Elia