Every fiber of me is crying. Every minute is dying. Everything seems so wrong.
I never had bad intentions to anyone. I never wanted to stab someone at the back.
All I wanted was to help, share, and compromise.
All I needed were simple actions, and I’ve never asked for too much.
I hate myself for making my emotions overcome me. But what can I do? That’s already innate.
Will you listen to the shouts of my sentiments?
Will you feel the hunger of my cry?
Will you ever grant just a simple deed?
I will never let this happen once more, but if it does, I might go back to the person I was before: the one I left with hunger, anger, and vengeance.
Then, my eyes would be more than windows of my soul.
My ears would be more than those of the owl.
My nose would be more than that of the wolf.
A thing may end now, but the soul that might be revived would long live until it achieves a peak. A peak that no one would ever want to come into reality.
Now, my patience is still.
Please fix my sight.
Give me back my nerves.
Repair my soul.
And everything will be all right…