The lost mosaic

Was this foretold? A destiny plagued, then pillaged From the aromas of paprika and cinnamon scented dreams I wondered through your winding streets In the shadows of my mind, snaked liked the endless rivers on delta springs This desert wanderer of unquenched thirst, who fleetingly sang in tongues of the unknown stranger A fruitless compass, spinning for all it’s worth You left me nothing but a blank canvas of innocence A mere illusion: This ruby-red brush of love, that flaunts It’s slow and steady strokes, dancing through orange flames The same fires from within, that Now Consume my true being Lost to love, I must truly be…