Run

Run— Edited Edition

Edited by: Roxana Puia

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One rock flew, aiming to stop me.

A second rock was sent to break my leg — to keep me from running away.

A third rock tried to take my life.

Still, I ran.

I continued my escape.

I broke the pattern of fear that made others stay for

certain death.

I ran from insecurity — I found joy.

I ran from fear — I gained courage.

I ran from the past — I couldn’t escape.

I ran from death — I began to live.

Broken and desperate, I ran.

I ran.

I escaped for my life, on an unknown path.

I ran without knowing where I was going —

without looking back or at my surroundings.

On the road, running toward nothing

(eyes down, heart trapped)

I remembered something —

I am human.

So I lifted my eyes and listened:

I saw people running, walking, some crawling on the road.

We had different pasts,

But all of us were running from something.

On this road, I dreamed the impossible —

to stop.

The wind bruised my face, and I heard a voice within me say:

“If you keep running toward nothing, your life will not matter.

The pattern you once broke will follow you everywhere.

Stop running from the past —

run toward me.”

Today, I run toward

knowledge,

certainty,

determination —

but most of all,

I run toward where I was born,

carrying the memory of where

I escaped.

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Run— Original Version

One rock flew, aiming to stop me.

A second rock was sent to break my leg — to keep me from running away.

A third rock tried to take my life.

Still, I ran. I continued my escape.

I broke the pattern of fear that made others stay for certain death.

I ran from insecurity — I found joy.

I ran from fear — I gained courage.

I ran from the past — I couldn’t escape.

I ran from death — I began to live.

Broken and desperate, I ran. I ran.

I escaped for my life, on an unknown path.

I ran without knowing where I was going,

without looking back or at my surroundings.

On the road, running toward nothing — eyes down, heart trapped —

I remembered something:

I am human.

So I lifted my eyes and listened.

I saw people running, walking, some crawling on the road.

We had different pasts; we were different.

But all of us were running from something.

On this road, I dreamed the impossible — to stop.

The wind bruised my face, and I heard a voice say:

“If you keep running toward nothing, your life will not matter.

The pattern you once broke will follow you anywhere.

Stop running from the past — run toward me.”

Today, I run toward knowledge, certainty, and determination —

but most of all,

I run toward where I was born,

carrying the memory of where I escaped.