The Man From Laramar

The Man From Laramar

He came from nowhere,

a man without footsteps,

eyes like forgotten stories,

hands that hid the truth.

People spoke softly,

when his name was near,

as if sound itself feared,

to follow him home.

I watched him passing,

moving like drifting smoke,

the man from Laramar,

who carried the unknown.

His coat hung heavy,

as if filled with secrets,

each fold whispering,

of places unseen.

Doors opened slowly,

when he walked by,

shadows stretched closer,

as though greeting him.

Some said he wandered,

between worlds at dusk,

never choosing a side,

never leaving a trace.