Starry Nights with a Skeleton

I am the tired traveler,

Weary and aching in every bone

Many days and nights have passed

Since I began my journey

Days bring heat and hopelessness

Nights bring exhaustion and weariness

I am the homesick traveler,

I long for my home

But is it there?

No contact, no messages

I have no record of the time

Only the sun and moon to guide my steps

I am the lonely traveler,

At last

A familiar sight

The old tree beckons me home

Like an old friend long forgotten

I bound forward with new found hope

I am the happy traveler,

Reaching the "X" on my treasure map

The moon has risen to signal it is time for sleep

But no exhaustion or weariness is felt

The moon hangs high overhead

Accompanied by those whose souls are worthy to become celestial bodies

I am the consfused traveler,

These streets are empty

These homes are devoid of sleeping bodies

No breathing, no snoring to be heard

Thick dust blankets everything

This place is not my home

I am the ghost traveler returning to a ghost town

I am the lost traveler has returned from the land of the dead

I am the dead traveler, who died before he could reach his home

Author's Note

This is a combined poem of the two pieces of artwork that I chose, Starry Night and Skull of a Skeleton with a Burning Cigarette. Both of these were painted by Vincent van Gogh, which a profile can be read by scrolling down a few posts, or clicking here. This is the narrative poem of a traveler who died on his journey home, where the skeleton part plays in. I tried to insert a few hints towards this, but I decided to also include this part if it wasn't too obvious.