The sky is dark, and angry.
The street is empty, except for me and my thoughts.
The wind blows through the trees, making the leaves rustle in the silence.
The silence is almost deafening.
It’s almost as if, if I stand still enough, and listen hard enough, I can hear their voices.
The voices of the past, whispering their secrets in my head.
Secrets of the dead and long forgotten.
There is so much pain and anguish, that I can’t hold it all inside.
The sky begins to shed its tears; tears that are long overdue.
I feel the first drop on my cheek. Sweet release.
As the sky began to weep, so did I.
The cold began to creep up on me.
I felt it in my bones, down to my soul.
That overwhelming coldness filled me up, and I was left numb.
As the numbness faded, it was replaced with a strong sense of determination.
I will not break, I will not crumble.
I will not be shown as weak in the face of my enemy.
I will resist.
No amount of hatred, or contempt can stop me from making a difference.
I will fight back, and I will win.