Although the days pass, the wound does not subside,
and the hopes do not fade either.
The wounds of the body can heal someday,
but the wounds of the soul do not.
The wound of the soul is always seeking vengeance,
both in this life and even in the life beyond the grave.
It is a kind of wound that does not accept penance and does not demand settlement.
A kind of wound that has become a professor at the Patience and Perseverance Academy.
A professor who teaches his hardworking students how to use the blowing winds to make their spines straight,
instead of their old hunchbacked ones,
and how to paint murals of hopes on the rocky face of the frustrating years,
with the colors of the same bleeding wounds.
and how to use the pains of hot surfaces to train them to be among the most outstanding dancers,
and how to use the bitter darkness of their nights,
which shrouds and squeezes tightly upon their chests,
to extract the nectar of wisdom from the black flowers of their estrangement,
and how can their baptism in the river of purging pains,
transform their souls into purer ones,
when the holy love flies by its holy wings above,
and make their souls produce new roots and create their new destiny.