Ageless Fetters

A Peppermint Break from Colonial Rusty Binds In the tranquillity of Petrichor, where authenticity grew again in the lavender fields of culture and heritage. Our name, once forgotten like a phoenix, surged a new identity into the oceans of serenity.

Our art and music echoed through the depths of haunted valleys. Agriculture beamed in the garden of dreams untold—on hold. Ancestral runes melted in eternal flame as claws of societal norms spike our chests. A fight with our spirits lingers.

Blood spews like screwless cannons. A revolving stagnation of lurking leaders.
An unrest of political rainbow. Educational glitches and healthcare fog. Victims held in a palette of shameful hues. No chance for tomorrow to break as poverty fondles like a lover obsessed.

A thirst for greed, and flight, into terracotta stones of conflict. We sink at the shores of unity.
A bewildering dance. A déjà vu. Maybe a ruby repetition of how we got sold in the first place.
A distance for unity and a mad lust for selfish voids. Perplexed by the stagnation of emancipation, We wonder if freedom truly exists in this drunken realm.