End of The Line, Start of The Rest

The ghost wind season
Reaching the very threshold
Ceases in its tracks

God please grant me strength
In the form of sure resolve
To rest and relax

Despite no judgement
May air and mind become clear
Sun set on season

That I might glimpse skies
And set sites on horizon
Then never look back

This post a buoy
Course set away, directly
To great adventure

I am still breathing
"Why the F am I still here?"
Echoes on the wind

Love, plain and simple
I believe you have a plan
I long to see it

So we pick me up
Single touch is all it takes
I stand to my feet

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