A sense of misunderstanding goes a long way, damning the logic of reason. Every season within the time allotted has it’s own way of breathing through the cataclysmic emotions of fallen souls. The same soul connected to the vast land of dried thoughts. Forgotten within a compromised pineal gland, sought to be strong seeking knowledge trying to unvail the third eye to take the long forsaken stand in the raining season!

The Urban Psalmist

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