Seeking Home

Everyone's looking for home.
But I don't mean a four-walled shelter for protection from the cold, 

or heat, or snow, or rain. '

No.
I'm talking about home, for comfort from the pain.
We're all nomads, moving from one home to another, 

settling down and then getting worked up, about not finding what we're looking for, 

so we pack up again and hunt, and while on our miserable journey, 

we down spirit like it'll make up for the one in us that we've abandoned.
We think it'll numb the empty, overwhelming pain, but it does nothing to fill and nothing to please, the only option is to never cease to move on. 
Keep hunting till you find your prey, the soul that'll turn your darkness to a day, 

till you see home in the eyes of a person, and comfort in the voice of the same, 

stay restless until you find it, stay moving and stay mad, fight for the love you know you deserve.
From anything else dodge out, swerve.
You have love in your veins, 

flowing strong and thick, 

no spirit but yours can give you the right kick, 

a kick in the right direction, towards your home connection.
You'll know when you're home, you'll feel it when you're near. 

I felt it like a gush of wind hitting my face on a cool January day. 

I felt at home, even though home was far away.
I found it in someone, someone I'll love forever and a day.
To you, my home, 

I look to you and I feel safe, I am comforted by your sweet embrace, 

and I could draw with the stars, the beauty of your face, 

and still not be able to do justice to your grace.
You are above all, my beautiful midnight, 

the kind where the moon shines dimly, allowing only the stars to shine bright.
You are, in my darkness, my light.
You dear, are my home, my lover, my victorious fight.