You will one day turn around to see..
There had been a desert behind you,
All this time...
Which you once crossed,
And all, who lived in that golden stretch of sand,
Looked at you,
As if you were,
Having nothing is prettier,
Than having the hope of something.
For a mirage always gives hope,
A hope that shatters,
Were you always a mirage?
Which I kept running after,
Or was I the sinner?
Whose penance was you.