Words in written form is the voice of the sorrow to savour the freedom of existent feelings in which world do not want to hear it speaks. Optimism drives our world and life, but in every heart they will be the grief that decides to stay. In what way can we tell people the crying of the heart if it is not here? In what way a shameful feeling can feel free form being suppressed if not in a place where freedom is its natural being. Words has the power to empty the cup of sorrow; and even if words cannot change the world for a promised betterment, it offers an avenue to spill out those sadness we want not.
I need answers, but I refuse (malaih) to seek.