I think this is not the mood to be..
But nomads have neither moods nor place.
Living every single day
In its single - limitless way
A life where one day melts into the other
But forms a mosaic on the sands of time
Were he to barter even a day in this time
He wouldn’t give one for a million or a dime!
His wings might be clipped for flight
But sky is not the limit for him
Rising falling in his own emotions,
A nomad goes a thousand excursions..
Happy with the freedom of one
Bound with chains of none
He feels it flowing under his veins
Nomadic tunes of dunes and rains.
