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(Thumbnails are temporary for now) Blessings. Idolized, wished upon, wished for. Only the luckiest would gain them, yet your journey would only dive deeper. Spiraling into a pool of nothingness. To The Divine, you could only be nothing. You’d wish to see every end of the earth, but only your own regret would be left. Your wishes would be ignored, only to be trampled upon. It’s a death wish. The petals fall slowly. Every saint has a past.