✨ “Yakshu in the Park of Avenue”
Me, Yakshu… in the park of the avenue, where the breeze carries the scent of old rain and untold stories. The benches still remember the weight of forgotten dreams, and the trees whisper names that time has buried. I walked slow, tracing the cracks of the stone pathway, each one holding a memory of the person I used to be. There was a time when my voice filled every silence — I spoke, I explained, I defended myself even when I wasn’t wrong. Every emotion I felt was turned into a sentence, and every sentence was thrown into the air, hoping someone would catch it with care. But they never did. My words fell on deaf ears, bounced off walls of pride, and drowned in the noise of opinions that weren’t mine. Now, as I walk through this park, I hear nothing but my own breath. Silence has become my companion. At first, it scared me — it felt like emptiness, like a room where every echo belongs to regret. But slowly, silence began to shape me. It no longer felt like loneliness; it became...