A pen dipped into a bloodstains from a pierced heart can write unfathomable metaphors that only few could understand. In result, it will create a legendary oeuvres. An oeuvres that whenever a writer succumb and rest on his coffin, it will stay as a...
I. "Hughh!" I sighed. I am walking unconsciously on an endless road with a heavy aura, Dark ambiance filled the wide horizon, Can't even see up above the luminescence of the moon. It's quite strange because I see no heavenly bodies above. Not even a single star to symphatize on me from being flogged.
II. Yeah! The world neglected me! No, the universe actually. It all started a couple of years ago when I felt nothing but pain and melancholy. I'm currently in the cliff of my mind doubting, I can't even sense my self-worth! Or simply, do I really have a worth? Do I really deserve the space granted to me by this hellish world!?
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III. Imagine being submerged into the ocean of pain, Or falling from a skycraper of failure, Or else being flogged and assasinated by the arrows of scorn and belittlements. Me? I experienced all of those. Everyday, the sun always rises in the world happily while my sun always sets in tears.
IV. I am slowly becoming numb, Callus started developing all over my body. I'm exhausted. Really exhausted! Exhausted of fighting back against the world over and over again. Now, I think it's time to stop because I think I can't fight against the world alone.
V. Now, I saw a mirror showing man in agony, I'm sobbing and I was shocked as I saw it was me! I think I really have to stop. To stop living the life I had because I think this is too much. But if I will, it means I'm in denial with the life I was meant to live.
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VI. Different voices of demons were clamoring inside my head, It prompted me to induced bad deeds. Trying to stop my heartbeat through my pulse. Or else tying myself up on a rope that'll give me eternal hiatus. Because I think I will only be free from the demons on the society when I succumb on my coffin resting forever.
VII. But, no, no, that is not the key. It's a lame escape from the reality. That would only add up to all my lamentations instead. I know darkness filled me up recently but I will never stop writing my life even if it means eternal torment. Because another sunrise will come which means another hope, A hope of being disimmured from this jail I'm silently suffering for years. This is just a depression, I can win over it. I will and I believe I can.
