Horses drum the earth,
hooves strike fire, hooves strike dust.
Wheels creak, canvas snaps,
wind whispers secrets we must trust.

Hands hover—tea leaves spin,
crystals catch the sun,
cards flip, palms reveal
what the world cannot hold.

Blood hums hidden roads,
brotherhood shadows, secret codes,
magic flows in veins,
fire alive in every stride.

I am the caravan’s echo,
smoke, cards, palms, wind, dust.
Child of shadowed paths,
keeper of secrets,
blood of magic,
and in this blood,
I am whole.
I am free.