the sky is my roof, and earth my bed,

I am a vagabond from birth till I am dead.

I sleep on edges of cliffs and walk stary nights,

I play with the wind and dream in moonlight.

I whistle along as I am walking by,

and then somewhere I see the god smile at me in the sky.

I wonder if he knows why he created me,

and shall my life pass in the struggle between "to become" or "to be".

'I am what I am' is how he defines himself, and i smile thinking,

If I am me, then what is "he".

Regards and Prayers,

Rohan