Dust

In the quiet depths of the night, a haunting thought emerges: a person confronts God within the realm of restless sleep, while their conscience torments them, preventing rest. The weight of guilt for committing regicide keeps them awake, for their actions have stained their soul. The sinner, in truth, is no better than a slave, trapped in the grasp of their transgressions. They move through life like a serpent, blinded by the dust of their own wrongdoing, unable to see clearly the path ahead.