Unheard

She began as light, tender as dawn, carrying a faith that the world could be kind. In the quiet of her sanctuary she dreamed without fear, built fragile kingdoms of purity, and believed life would honor her with gentleness. But time is a cruel teacher. It unveiled the weight of joy’s shadow, the cost hidden in every fleeting moment of peace. The people she trusted drifted away, their absence carving wounds deeper than betrayal. Alone, she bore the voices that told her she was nothing, that her worth was illusion. By day she disguised her despair, by night it tore her apart. Still she stood, daring the world to break her again. Yet the fight hollowed her, piece by piece, until even her reflection felt like a stranger. In solitude she found no comfort, only silence pressing its hand across her mouth, leaving her unseen, unheard. But time, indifferent and merciless, kept moving, stitching over the wounds while etching new scars. And so she remains, a girl who fell and rose, who carries both light and ruin inside her, a soul whose story is not of victory but of survival in the endless struggle of becoming whole.