Thousands were her inner fights,
whose existence were akin to raging flames on a monsoon nights.
"Shush!", said the world, for cries can be heard ;
"and cries," they exclaimed, "have the power to declare you weak.."
She struggled to become one among the others,
shredding the voices that made her together.
And now she lay hidden behind the golden mask,
her face the perfect mural for peace.
While the world exclaimed at the epitome of figure she made,
when her heart cried the tears of anguish for the long lost voices that lay forever dead.
Story