Sometimes I wonder, what makes the heart so cruel,
When forgiveness blooms in the soil of a soul’s duel.
If I, broken and bent, can rise from the wreck,
Can bury the ghosts, and silence the wrecked,
Why can’t they let go, leave me in peace,
And allow me the breath of a soft release?

I don’t ask for riches, or a word of praise,
Not even a promise, not even a gaze.
Though they tore from me every spark, every light,
I chose to walk on, in the depth of the night,
Wishing them well, though their hands stole my sun,
Praying for a calm that would never be undone.

Why must they still come, with their shadows and claws,
Demanding my spirit, as if love had no laws?
I hear their stories, the echoes of pain,
Yet I know no one should carry such chains.
None deserve the torment they’ve suffered before,
But why do they return, to knock at my door?

I long to tell them—respect is the key,
That compassion is not a gift given for free.
It’s the pulse of the earth, the rhythm of skies,
The quiet exchange where true love never dies.
But their hunger for more, like wolves in the night,
Blinds them to truth, and twists what’s right.

If they would only understand, just for a breath,
That respect is the bridge, not silence, nor death.
If they would only give, without taking,
Perhaps they’d learn what it means to be waking.
To see, to feel, to let others be,
To exist without grasping, to set love free.

I pray not for revenge, nor for bitter decree,
But for them to be healed, for their hearts to be free.
I offer them nothing—yet in my quiet plea,
I wish them the peace that has eluded me.
May their pain be softened, may their nights turn to gold,
For in my release, I find strength to behold.

So let them take nothing, and let them take all,
But once they have tasted this, may they fall—
Into the knowing that respect can restore,
What cruelty once shattered, forevermore.