Never did I think that I would encounter it so soon—
This silent torment,
This weight that seeps beneath the skin and settles in the soul.

It is a pain that carves deep,
Like a scar etched across time—unfading,
A thunderclap in the heart,
Shattering dreams in a single strike,
Tearing through every fragile hope I held close.

It is the kind of pain that drowns your eyes in tears,
The kind that whispers doubt in every quiet moment.
And still, you ask yourself,
Why me?
Why must I endure this endless ache,
This hollow echo of something lost?

I was left devastated,
Alone in a crowd,
Smiling on the surface while crumbling within.

I tried to breathe—
But the pain clung to my lungs,
Heavy as regret,
Sharp as shame.

And yet—
Amid the darkness, a truth began to bloom:
This is not the end.
This failure, though cruel, is not my undoing.

It is a stepping stone, not a gravestone.
A part of the journey, not the final chapter.
A path that winds through hurt,
But leads—eventually—
To strength, to growth, to success.

So yes, it is painful.
But pain is not defeat.
It is proof that I am still trying.
Still rising.
Still becoming.