Only when silence regains its sense of peace,
only then will I know I've emerged from the forest.
They tried to rewrite my story,
to distort it, empty it,
to tell it as if I had never existed.
They took away my voice,
fit me into roles I never chose,
treated me as guilty without proof,
as dangerous without truth.
Now, piece by piece, they try to erase everything:
my dignity, my identity, my role as a father.
To reduce me to silence.
But I’m still here.
I am the voice you didn’t silence,
the memory that endures,
the truth that writes itself,
even in silence.
They laid a trap:
strategically placed scissors,
subtle provocations,
suspended waiting,
calculated glances,
silent manipulations.
Then they told their story —
a clever story, crafted to become law,
a judicial truth fabricated.
A story that needed a culprit
to absolve those who spread the poison.
And they succeeded: they built the monster,
with a narrative sewn onto me,
imposed on the world as reality.
And yes, I admit it: I almost gave them what they wanted.
To become what they desired:
a broken man, angry, desperate.
They pushed me to the edge, isolated me,
poured poison into my soul.
But they didn’t succeed.
Because that transformation wasn’t mine.
That’s not who I am.
That’s not who I’ve ever been.
And the truth will find its way.
I resisted.
I saw the abyss.
I felt the void.
But I kept walking, with every fiber,
with every drop of awareness.
And now I ask myself:
how many men didn’t make it?
How many fell?
Broken.
Silent.
Erased.
The system needs monsters.
It feeds on pain.
It justifies itself through destruction.
The more it breaks, the more it excuses itself.
But I will speak.
I will speak even if the world is deaf.
Because somewhere, someone will hear.
Just one, among eight billion.
And I will reach them.
Because as long as a single heart remains capable of feeling,
my story will not be lost.
Nor will my humanity.
The truth is my strength.
And one day, your lies will be called by name.
Today the world applauds you.
You trampled me.
But one day, time will speak.
And will bring you to the mirror.
You who destroyed the past,
seduced by the myth of self-fulfillment.
You amputated life, thinking you were building happiness
on another’s unhappiness.
And to those vestals of self-realization…
have you ever asked what they truly gave you?
If not destruction, separation, disintegration.
Under the empty words, only the desert remains.
And so that my sleepless nights, my pain,
will not have been in vain…
I will continue with my truth
until my final breath.
Only when silence regains its sense of peace,
only then will I know I've emerged from the forest.