Noise, laughter, waves, cries, howling of the wind;
I used to see everything,
Friends, heartache, fear, rain, lovers kissing on the street.
Now I can’t neither hear nor see,
All that was left is to feel—feel it all in all,
As though I can bleed to death,
Scarring my throat to suppress the urge to vent.
Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.
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