A nomadic soul I am,
venturing this colourful journey
Reincarnated for centuries,
For me, a thousand suns have shined.
I’m a freeloader of life,
Of moments, of smiles.
I live and create anecdotes,
But none to settle for, or call mine.
Sometimes, I look back
To the lived and left memories;
And then a nostalgic breeze hits
Of a million forgotten stories.
The nostalgia, they call déjà vu,
Are but, dusty books in a shelf;
The Shelf of my soul’s memory,
And logs, I sometimes delve.
But retrograding isn’t my motion.
For, I long for my ultimate calling.
High to the heavens, I shall rise,
So as to one day again be fallen.
Like a falling kite, I sway;
With a string, of memories, attached.
(Falls) And then, I take another flight,
But with old strings detached.