Out from the shadow they travel on foot
Under the blazing sun and flaming dunes
The tempest whistle like of hole less flute
Covered,yet not their heart's ironclad runes
From the starless night to the sunless day
Their perseverance lives, on front line way
Looked down facing foes of infinite race
Until some bones be part and flesh erased
Over the temptation of the mirage
Their sight coveted but their will stand still
Desire is death itself in camouflage
Perilous would the bridge if its unreal
Some might not anchor their boots on the stream
Ascension is the compass of the whole
Nomads don't dwell the sands for just one dream
From goal to goal they travel with their soul
My journey begins now. The allegory of the Nomads that travel stream after stream