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Just Babbling

The Virtuous Nomad

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[FONT=Arial][COLOR=Indigo]He walked his feet on world grounds
From the steeps of Parthenon
To heavy streets of Bangkok
Lured by dreams and wonders
And he challenged his ego
Among fearless bikers of Vietnam
The warlords of buzzing streets
And with his two passionate eyes
Captured the smiles of the Malayans
And shared the cold air with the unknown Chinese old man
While they talked and smoked pipes in Shanghai’s most crowded alley
He, who rested his feet in his gloomy hometown near Liverpool,
Sat his soul on wooden chair at a cafe in Lyon
And just gazed at the world behind the glass, tired
Took his time, until Dubai called.

Memories recorded, memories wiped out
Few ones lingered
Like the cameos from some indistinguishable movies
Too many stories, unspoken narratives, concealed tales
One thousand and one revisited in one’s memory
He kept his paths
Remained in his solitude
Among the million faces and colorful skins he passed by
The virtuous nomad
Who longed for his secret island
Below his own sun[/COLOR][/FONT]
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