Description
In the magnificent kingdom of my exile, I watched as friends and relatives drifted away, their gloating glances filled with contempt. I forced myself to go to university, summoning a false resolve to attend lectures, but my mind would slump after just a few minutes. My exhaustion wasn’t the kind that fades with rest; it was the weariness of someone who feels crushed. I was wounded to the core. Everything hurt; my body felt burdened with internal and external wounds. A trivial song was enough to trigger my pain, and I would weep for hours. Even the changing weather would send me into fits of emotion, making me feel as though nature itself was against me. Every day, I wept with the eyes of all the oppressed, acutely aware of my desperate need for compassion, mercy, and love.
I walked down the street, the wailing of my inner turmoil deafening me, drowning out the street’s clamor. My tears surprise me as I walk, and I wipe them away haphazardly. I look around at the people, wondering who among them is suffering like me, for none of them seem to share my pain—a burning, all-encompassing, overwhelming pain. But how can I know what lies within them?
Reviews
There are no reviews yet.