The fate of the cycle
It was a pleasure to burn with hatred towards him. He, the one who raised me, was the one I despised. His punches radiated with a familiar rhythm. His uncontrollable behaviour created patterns, which I studied intensely. I wanted to run away. Not from anyone, just him. And so I did. I ran until I was out of breath. But luckily, I found happiness. I found it away from him. I found it before the life in me slowly died. The scars that he left on me will never disappear, but hopefully they´ll fade. And if they fade, the predestined fate might change. The cycle might just die with me. Perhaps I'll stop the lineage, so there will be no chance for a rebound. And so I live in this world, my back breaking from the weight of the responsibility I carry. But once I can no longer use my back, I´ll just drag it. The cause is far greater than me, the burden too important to leave behind. So I will take this difficulty and carry it as long as I can and long after that. For I will bury it with me. I will not stop, until this bloodline ends and the suffering no longer prevails.
