Banjara Heart
Sands don't have footprints. That's the purpose of sands. To keep making man want it. In order to create poetry. Or pain.
Banjara Heart. It knew from the start
Wrapped in Maya. Lost in a lollipop cart
Had to get broken. For it to get whole
And then, broken again. To give back what time stole
Banjara Heart. From a mirage it drinks
Imaginary ocean. But a real ship sinks
No one screams. For only ghosts are on board
But the blood tastes salty. On the edge of the sword
Banjara Heart. Lost in chaos, made to order
City of dreams. But it dances on the border
Addicted to pain. Intravenous sorrow
It's had its fill. But still wants to borrow
Banjara Heart. Undead, once living
Keeps getting taken from. Yet swears by giving
Never grew up. Didn't really need to
Adult words of caution. Never paid heed to
Banjara Heart. May you never, ever die
They may light a candle. And protect it with a lie
But your glow's elsewhere. Lighthouse, moonbeam
You shall always beat. In a yet-to-be-born fool's dream