#157

Storm passed on,
but never left the void unbranded.

I have forsaken my father.

A love I bore
bred regret and agony.

I desired this—
this feeling—
this damnation…

but how could I,

if my forgiving father
has already done so?

He paid in full
the debt I owe.

All the sins I made,
even those I designed
and orchestrated.

Am I worthy
to have his love,
and his forgiveness?

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