Their cruelty carved its mark in me,
A wound that time may never free.
Each word a blade, each glance a chain,
They left me drowning in my pain.

Sadness lingered, sharp and near,
A silent echo I still hear.
The hurts they gave, the scars they made,
A shadowed path where light decayed.

Yet in the ashes, truth remains,
That suffering blooms from borrowed chains.
For what they built, they cannot hide—
The worst in me was theirs inside.

So let them see the cost of scorn,
The broken soul their hands have torn.
Their cruelty lives, a bitter stain,
Etched in my sadness, carved in pain.