I was on the right track, but then there was that one familiar scent calling for my attention. My spirit knew it was up to no good, but my flesh was weak. Little did I know, I had wandered off the road to trace it. I kept on going until I reached what seemed to be a barren field.
 
The more I tried to remember that smell, the warmer my body became. I was getting too hot, and my clothes were weighing me down on my journey, so I took them off. Every inch that I took, I knew I was getting close. However, the closer I get to successfully locating it and remembering what it was, the closer I also get to the pit.
 
If it weren't for my clothes that got tangled around my ankle and pulled me back, I should've fallen into the pit. At that moment, my blinds also came off, and that's when I discovered what the scent was. It was my old broken heart. The enemy held it firmly in his hand. Crushing it, milking it. He wanted me not only to smell it but also to taste it. If I do what he wants me to do, will he stop right there? He surely will make me want to repossess it, relive the sensation and then reenact my past until I am back to my old dead self without me knowing it. As long as my blinds are down, it cannot happen. After all, I can't relive the life that is already dead. So why would I stay? 
ORIGINAL:
Mixed media on 8x10" paper. (Watercolor, gouache, and acrylic)
Signed and dated
Art Print:
The design is printed on 8x10" matte-finish paper