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I know it to be true. There is a way to break this spell, cast by thousands of lives. I am paying for the sins of my fathers and mothers. The blood in my hands, dripping in lines. Spiralling in any direction, never pointing the way. Always a battle, the way of the world. I am moving forwards, I can feel it in my steps that hinder so. I can hear the beat of my heart, it is asking me to calm my mind. The noise too broken to comprehend. I feel the music silence me to the stillness of breath, and yet somewhere down below the cold night beckons me to doubt my instinct. The gut, my eternal Sun. I taste the brightness drawing closer to my spirit. It is lighting me to change. I am to become something entirely new. Teardrops pray up to the sky for answer. Confession, in no other color but violet. Rising up is the only way.

©Nicoletta