the nomad
He has moved around all his life, consequences of his father's transferable job. He has grown up in different houses, in different cities and studied in different schools. He has made new friends only to lose them. And over the years the only baggage that he has accumulated is his memories. Even when he sits quietly in the corner of his house, his body sways gently in the motion of a moving caravan in the desert.
Goodbyes are difficult, despite the years of practice. But he has learnt how to stop the tears before they come. Though he is very much afraid of what lies ahead. The sands change shape in the desert. The heat, the thirst and the desert storms. For once, he wants to settle. For once, he wants to call a place his very own. For once, he wants to belong.
But in his heart he knows, the nomadic blood in his veins run strong. And even though the more of the world he sees, the lonelier he felt; but still, he has to keep travelling. On and on. For a reason that doesn't exist, for a cause that was long gone, in search of a new home that could never make him stay.
Goodbyes are difficult, despite the years of practice. But he has learnt how to stop the tears before they come. Though he is very much afraid of what lies ahead. The sands change shape in the desert. The heat, the thirst and the desert storms. For once, he wants to settle. For once, he wants to call a place his very own. For once, he wants to belong.
But in his heart he knows, the nomadic blood in his veins run strong. And even though the more of the world he sees, the lonelier he felt; but still, he has to keep travelling. On and on. For a reason that doesn't exist, for a cause that was long gone, in search of a new home that could never make him stay.
