Baskadia

I write to you from such a pale world where no sparkle affects anything. Of a world where the long-awaited peace has settled between walls and echoes. I write to you from a reality where living is no longer exciting. Where one has the taste of the challenge on the lips. Where we mourn every day for innocent souls gone far too soon. The breath of relatives sold at a good price. The blood of our loved ones shed and spilled unjustly on the sidewalks. I write to you from a reality where we wait for the end without ever living the present moment, because our days are numbered. We only have our bodies that are too weak and so tired that celebrating existence for the best becomes boring. I write to you from a hallway where I see death approaching. I write to you from a roof where I patiently await the last ticking of the clock. So little time and so much endless hope. I write to you with a broken heart, from a dark world.
I’m sorry…