My life’s essence flowed into this world, not in the noise of being, but in a silence deeper than all sounds. Here—somewhere between the half-clouded sky of memories and the fallen columns of my homeland, I stand; not who I was, but the one they will come to know. One day after me, only a trace of light remains. My lips are still heavy with unspoken words, my eyes—windows to a world to which I no longer belong. And this butterfly a witness to a quiet rebirth, a gentle passage through the death of the self into something unnamed, yet deeply felt… in the trembling of light, in the breath of silence, in the continuation of me, without me.