The Wandering Roamer

I roam the wasteland
Constantly wondering
Heading from place to place
In a world made inhospitable by man’s own avarice

War
War never changes
But that is not the only thing that never changes

Whether friend or foe
Whether House or NCR or Legion
Everyone’s vying for a piece of the action
It’s just such a pity that I fall in the middle of it all

One false move
And death is almost guaranteed to come

Whether that death be by cazadores
Or by deathclaws
Or by ghouls
Or even by my own missteps
It’s quite easy to return to mortality

I was after all shot in the head
Left for dead
With no expectation that I would emerge
And yet, just that exactly happened
And so I go
And so I push on

The factions are tricky
The factions are treacherous
I can be adored by one
But loathed by another
And once that point
has been reached
There’s not much else
that can be done

Everyone throughout the Mojave wants me
It’s just a pity that I’m the only guy around

So off I go from place to place
Questing ceaselessly until such time as I must rest
Sometimes I pass
Sometimes I fail

But as I shoot
And as I wander
And as I glance at the darkened sky
Its countless stars shining at me
I realise that yet another day has passed
And that I will soon have to do it all again

It’s not an easy task
All the people I fight
All of them have their own lives and stories to tell
In a way, I am like the avatar of a god
Smiting those who oppose me and rewarding those loyal to me

There is a massive sense of power in that
But that power can just as quickly be removed

In the unforgiving heat of the Mojave
One must be strong
One must be tough
To deal with a world where society is so very different

In that world
There’s not very many
creature comforts to be had
And even if there were
I’d be much too busy questing
to fully enjoy them

Instead off I must go
Off I must continue onward
Helping those who have helped me
And hurting those who have hurt me
Before that nuclear winter
transforms from an idle wish
to a cold reality