I’ve waited my longest to see retribution to the sin factor of my life. Everything I’ve done to go without and pardon myself from greed as if it was approachable.
Not for kind, gentle souls. Of the batch, I suppose I fall into.
Whatever may come is a false dive into sanity and it’s about to pick up again soon.
Ride the waves and with the stroke of the brush, my story shall be painted within every breeze of the wind.
petrichor - archive 