With each gust of earthly zephyr,
courses the echo of my past.
Replenishing my soul with a yearning impulse.
The anemoia of the petrichor feels so factual,
that it feels like I have transited to the day I profounded the first breath of the worldly petrichor.
I feel how I felt that day,
as a captivating stench takes over my spirit.
Putting an end to my overwhelmed phyche,
and bewitching it with a euphoric fire..
©user477
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