No aim trip

I was wondering & roaming with a no aim
But with an end to catch a dying flame
I was sipping on a ripped bottle on the roadway
The time I carried my slipper to the highway
To get the sky garden full of passions
With a bag of empty thoughts, hungry gut & guts
When every direction is right and navigations are useless
I stared at markets of languages and tripping heads
When I was gonna stick for a new turn
Got dragged at roads of showcases and illusion