God's deposits are not lost

Whenever I turn my face away from the sound of worry; a branch in my chest bleats. The bird of sadness eats my ribs and climbs on them, as if it came to demolish the last thing remaining inside me, rapes the only hope from which I look out at the world with joy and waiting, destroys everything torn and burned. I returned to carry the banner of surrender, and I carry on my shoulders my defeats. I stood in front of the reflection mirror to ask myself once, which is the first and last: can I overcome the matter alone?