The burden of unforgiveness

In this crowded world, I am all alone. The night never seems to crack the dawn. There are voices I hear everywhere, but no one is familiar anymore. The air around me is punctuated with screams as those of broken bones move. I cry softly with physical pain in the anguish of grief. So, incapable of doing nothing for myself. It is just the endless Congo of pain and hurt. I didn’t belong to myself, no longer a cohesive machine of blood and bone; each step is a negotiation to take the next step. Everything is hurting… Every damn thing… I wish someone could hear my voice and make me free from this cage…

I began the hollow cries while I keep vanishing in the misty harmony alone, longing for my home, the place where I am only yearning to return to. But these difficult emotions are heavy and do not let me move onward. The river of emotions is erratic & harsh keeping the scars raw, ruffling the edges, and not allowing them to heal. I presume healing comes from forgiveness, but forgiving myself feels impossible, and yet I am the hypocrite suggesting others about forgiving themselves. I judge myself through every person I pass by, trying to do some good, but those eyes have not forgiven me and I am lost searching for myself. Whatever life is left is the hell of the soul, trapped in the cage of tortured flesh and bones. A good cry makes you feel unburdened, but for me, it is like sharp knives stabbing, choking my throat, and making me numb even to speak up. The silence grew ghostly and scary dark. They say the strongest warriors choose their battles, but here the battle has chosen the warrior breaking down to its knees. With no way to get up and walk past by….!

Sometimes we get used to living in the perpetual darkness until the soul is finally out of its cage…