It's a new day with new things and new slightly smooth Ghost orchids. A bit pied off, full of gloom to be honest, but the blooms look like they'll last forever. The sod of the yard is drenched, it's raining, seems to come in torrents and then peaceful, almost individual little drops, they look like tiny crystal globes full of invisible people.
I don't feel well, thirsty wolves are out, maybe they'll howl, I like when they do that, it's like my own chorus just for me, always at the forest edge, I may venture into that darkness of tall trees today when the light is almost gone.
They say spirits poison you, shun you to the tomb, so, if thy willing God, remove this curse. Remember what was said, forgiveness is the fragrance that the violet sheds on the heel that crushed it, Amen.