Though once aimless and searching,
Though he once smiled, while he ached, He is home. Though once enamored with man’s approval, Though applause was his pursuit, He is alive to One. Though scars still stain his leathered skin, Though his nostrils can still smell ash, He is cleansed. Though once enslaved and shackled, Though once bound by chains of self, He is free.
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AuthorTy Perry is a writer and blogger living in metro Detroit. Archives
December 2023
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