Day one on a road to bliss feels like being on open sea on the edge feeling the win brush your face. That taste feels like salt tasting blood from the slap at fierce pace. The castle doesn’t feel like a crib that humble abode, yet coming through a long cold storm in the waves they rode. Doesn’t seem fun being tight like a tuna pack, fact that claustrophobia has dreams endorsed by the lack of mind frame. Then it doesn’t seem like it’s fight is close to the right to be closer towards what bliss physically a myth that doesn’t exist. Though lessons come and insist on pressing, testing what challenge the mind like an irresponsible past actions that one would react in heinous intentions without full details, then moods derail and epic fail if not being calm and dwell into regrets. Much frets yet the now with wisdom and the past, never forget. Feels like deja vu with a little something new.

~The Urban Psalmist