He didn’t mean to end up here.
Not in the filth, not with the pigs, not with his head buried in shame. But the choices, one after the other, had carried him far from everything that once gave him worth. Now, in this hollow moment, he feels the weight of regret pressing harder than hunger ever could.
Forgotten. Unseen. Unloved.
But this is not where it ends. This is where grace begins…
… not in palaces, but in pigsties.
… not in comfort, but in the filth.
… not in applause, but in repentance.
And though he can’t see it yet, someone has never stopped waiting for him.
Love is still watching the road.
