Dead Indian Poet

go” aah”
———-

its where the air is so cold, and the sand always shifting,
the waves make each one bold, although none seems to be drinking.

each one hearing a different song, through the same speakers,
jumping and twisting in all of their celebrated fears,
with the coloured goggles and big smiles on their faces,
fighting non-existing creatures, with their imaginary maces.

its where the air is so bold, and the sand never sits still,
the waves make each one cold, and act against their will.

someone told me to standby, cuz the sunrise is the best part,
i could sit there all morning to admire nature’s finest art,
reality checks give rise to smoke, sitting on the beach i just go aaah..
i could spend my life there, the paradise they named Goa.