A wanderer dwells from desert to desert just to find a mirage,
Just to crave water which gradually turns into hope killing sand.
But in a way aren’t we all the same, with different stories, on a different land?
The wanderer complains that his eyes play tricks, form illusions that hurt,
He begs the gods to save him from the cruelty of the desert.
We all are stuck in a similar run, trying to grasp a coveted prize,
In the run, we let the monster in us rise.
Some lose themselves in the race to find the hidden treasure.
Others stab their companions, kill their joy, making them believe it’s a necessary measure.
All running a race to win the coveted award- their hearts mightiest desire,
In this journey of pain, we suffer to make our rank go higher.
Money, love, fame. Isn’t that what we all fight for?
But it’s never enough, we always want more.
Too late we realise , the prize is there no more,
Somewhere along the way to reaching the top, we lost all we were battling for.