Nomad ©©

I walk through the deserts of my mind
There is hardly any trace of where I have been
Blown away by the four winds
Sent swirling away through the cracks of time

Tiny grains sifting through the windows of my soul
Leaking out with every blink of an eye
With every moment that passes
Tiny seeds of thought left to be found after they’ve been watered through the tears of time

To some, a special song
To others a threat
Music for a soul by another soul
A taste of freedom on ones lips

I take a handful of dreams and watch
Watch as the grains slip away from my fingers
Watch them all fall away
All but few

What happened to the rebel?
Did he melt away with the sands of time?
Did he become another desert for someone else to get lost in?
Or has he forgotten the way home?

I walk through the sandstorms of time
Searching for a way to escape the hourglass
Other than the one provided at the bottom
Where all dreams get flushed away forever

All but the ones left in the palm of my hand

Walker