In rheum of my eyes
Floats dreams of my home
Of warm and cool shades of grape wines
On the secure walls of my Rome

 

The fog-kissed morning
Folding in, to the cloudy day
Breezy, cool with a peck of
Sun brushing the orchid stray

 

Dusk tiptoes on the fragile
Wings of rain over moon bow
The chatter of wet leaves and damp barks
Through the night is the one I know

 

Where I wake not with a startle
Running away from the demons of familiar faces
Nursing my broken shoulder from
Dead weight of unfulfilled and lost races

 

Place I was born was not my home, but a prison
Lived a slave there, trapped in illusion of mind
The place where I found myself, where I grew up,
That place was a lot to me was nurturing and kind

 

Still my home it was not, when foggy Sun sinks
A string tugs my restive heart and
Summons me from distant woods
From the promised land far apart

 

Or the place here,
Where I need to fight
My demons once again
To sleep at night

 

Like the lost sailor, I cruise
In the ocean vast
With no land in sight
The boat is sinking fast

 

A voice whispers in my bosom
Tiny searing glow to keep looking
For the promised land, my home
Feed the hearth of hope at night singing

by Naseha