The Intrepid Traveller


This poem does not only symbolise the physical toughness of travelling—it also depicts the different difficulties we face in the winding road—Life. We must be intrepid travellers, for what choice do we have, but to trudge forward on unpaved roads?

Most poems do not usually tell of a journey. But this time, I want my poem to sound like a story, that describes events and encounters the traveller faces. Enjoy!

The Intrepid Traveller

As I fasten my cloak around my shoulders,

Aware, as I finger the unblemished cloth,

That it will fray and fade, tear and tatter,

From that moment, as I forge my way on

Fear has no place for a hold

For I am The Intrepid Traveller


The sun is warm on my back,

The soil compact and solid beneath my feet

Though I am, and have to be, prepared,

For I know that dark days are yet to be seen

My heart warms at the many miles ahead of me,

For I am The Intrepid Traveller


My sword gleams sharp and clean,

Ready to be used, at a moment’s notice

My boots are yet to be caked in mud

For I am untried, yet to taste blood

The fire in my marrow grows ever stronger

For I am The Intrepid Traveller


Alas! Dark days are upon me—

Thrust into the pouring rain, the howling wind

Icicles stab relentlessly at my limbs,

Flames lick their sinuous way up my feet

The pain; it is agonising, but I will not surrender

For I am The Intrepid Traveller


Finally, the storm abates,

And I am presented with two ways;

Turn right, sunlit glades,

Or straight, shady woods await

I scarcely need time to think ‘ahead’

For I am The Intrepid Traveller


So how was it? Which way would you choose? 🙂


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