Killed by time, Its sharp edges carved pieces of me, Yet never enough to finish the job. How many times did I fall, Only to rise, carrying the weight? Killed by silence, by noise, By the suffocating air of empty rooms. Everything around me failed— But I refused to follow. The show must run, they say. Even as my ribs ache under hidden burdens, Even as the world asks for smiles When all I have is fire and tears. The fight returns, relentless. But this is my battleground, And though I bleed, I will never lose. 4000x5000 | Hollagas, 2024: Killed by