In the cusps of the lush bushes of dormancy lies a warrior within, bangled by the intense motion of an awakening
The quest to giddy up, get up, stand up, and be up brushes the nostrils carried by the wind from the horizon.
A tormenting hurricane builds, twisting winds pile up, thoughts seeking shelter, a soldier’s nightmare.
Teared by inaction, the flesh weary, thirsting for redemption, the flow state looks miles away, and the soul yearns for a taste.
Just a bud, just a bud!!!
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