Footprints on the frozen ground.

Covering with snow.

Forgotten.

Not needed.

my.

I step again.

Road of change.

Left somewhere behind.

Liquid calm. It pours again.

Resistance.

I peer into the darkness.

Looking for the light. Waiting for him,

Listening to the emptiness of black space.

Condemnation, resistance, anger, despair, cry, groan.

Adoption.

Or not? What’s this? A glimpse.

No.

Yes. Far.

Shimmering dim light.

It’s probably him. It seems so.

A whisper or just the occasional breeze?

A voice of hope or just an echo of chaos?

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