Day 27- Tuesday, September 4th

When will I come home?

I have walked countless weary miles

draped in dust of time,

falling, rising, crawling.

Tired!

Wounded by the bushes of devils trumpet.

Kissed by the leaves of living stone,

wreathed by the purple aakra flowers,

my sins atoned.

Lifetimes have gone by.

Living and dying

enchanted by sorcerers stone.

Then I heard your call.

Your whispers, the winds brought.

You have been waiting.

I’m praying alone.

When will I come home?