How She Felt, Till the End

Words of wisdom, she needed that.

Power to have courage, she cried for that. Peace within her being, she craved for that.

You know the only thing that made her feel wisdom was when she held the pen between her fingers,

The only thing that made her feel courageous was when she took paint and made an artwork anywhere possible,

The only thing that gave her peace was being alone.

Times changed, she changed and everything changed.

Every time she held her pen, it was just a waste of ink.

Every time she made something, her artwork seemed unfinished. And every time she was alone, she felt suicidal.

No one knew the cause,

No one seemed to care.

Even when she asked for help, they turned oblivious. Till the day she decided to take her own life.