Martyr

Robots mocking me as I journey through the circuitries of uncertainty. Staring at the aftermath while silently being stoned to death. Pummeled by a million accusations, beaten till I'm broken. Standing, drenched in blood, a crown of mockeries tattooed around my head. Slowly hopelessness slithers across the ground, creeping in as to not disturb any sense of familiarity. The days feel heavier, the sky appears darker; memories seem like a luxury I can't afford as I muster the strength to stand my ground.