A Nomad’s Song

You asked me why I wear a headgear,
It is to protect me from the heat’s radar,
You laughed derisive why I wrap my face,
That you, be aware neutralises sands’ graze,
I ride your scorn on my unkempt tunic,
That is turning brown with orderly panic,
The howling winds that twirl the dunes,
In eerie growl seeking mate’s moans,
Camels of hope snorting ride me away,
Oasis hunt in trudges as despair holds sway,
I am Caesar of fleeting shifting grains,
Praying from prey and avoidable strains,
I wander seeking non existent joy trade,
All i know is that by fate we are waylaid.

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