Echoes of an Unseen Battle

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 Today...

Everyone walks alone.

A crowded world
with hearts left hollow.
Friends—
they're myths now,
and if they still exist,
you cradle them carefully,
like fire in a storm.

We crave a corner of nature,
a quiet patch to lay our noise down.
Somewhere the world
doesn’t scream at us.
But peace is a vanishing species.

We became our own chains,
running, chasing
the ticking hands of clocks
as if salvation lies
somewhere between
deadline and burnout.

People...
want everything.
Now.
No time for patience,
no room for grace.
Privacy?
Gone.
Respect?
Evaporated.

This world spins on coins and credit.
Life’s sacred values—
buried beneath the weight of wallets.
But remember...
wasn’t it more beautiful
when we had nothing?

Back then
poverty had a soul.
It wasn’t about the lack of things,
it was about the presence of people.
There was struggle, yes,
but there was unity.
Today,
we walk solo,
heads down,
hearts guarded.

But how long can you keep walking alone?
How long can you act strong,
when inside…
you’re folding?
How long will you whisper wishes
into a world too busy to hear?

Everywhere
bitterness blooms.
Anger,
aggression,
comparison.
Being better than the rest
is the new religion.
Humility’s on life support.

Life is loud,
and people—
so many of them
wear masks sewn with lies.
Hypocrisy is the trend,
and the list of wounds
goes on.

Mental health?
Sure, it’s on offer.
If you’ve got the cash.
A fortune for a moment of relief.
And if you’re broke?
You queue.
You wait.
You hope.
And maybe, maybe, you’re seen…
next month.

If we really want to help,
we need a revolution
of small things.
More green,
less grey.
More open hands,
fewer gated hearts.
Free services.
Kind words.
Honest eyes.

Even the shops...
they scream at you
at 9AM
like you’ve walked into a club.
Why?
We need moments.
Stillness.
A breath between the noise.
Let us feel
what we love
not rush through it.

Music is magic
when it fits the mood.
But in shops, in pools,
in every corner
boom boom boom
and not a whisper of melody.

I’m done writing.
But remember this—
even the smallest drop
can fill a well.
A little rain each day
and life begins again.
The trees drink,
the earth heals.

Without water,
everything dies.

So please…
don’t just exist like metal machines,
don’t just function.
Live.
Feel.
Break if you must.
Heal.
Hold someone’s hand if they offer it.
Speak gently.
Rest.

Because being human
was never meant to feel
this lonely.
REST IN PEACE JAN

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