A Mad Nomad

A mad nomad I was,

Searching its existence,

While wandering around the deserts and mountains,

People called me mad,

As I moved along with my companion,

On barefoot unknown and unaware of its pain,

And a nomad I was,

Unknown of its existence,

And a mad nomad,

For whom pleasure was pain and pain was pleasure,

The smile which was happiness to many,

Was just a way to live for me,

While people lived under the roof

With dreams in their eyes,

I lived in moments,

Giving up on dreams,

Because dreams were a luxury,

And home was a dream,

While people found their path,

I stood in the middle,

Barefoot walking under the afternoon sun,

Dancing and singing along the way,

Making bruises the pleasure to live,

And life, the pain to love,

And, now after all the years of an orphan,

I wait for death like an old friend.

As a mad nomad, I was,

Searching and wondering about its existence.