My heart fells like a battlefield. I wish to tell them to cease fire but there is a cannon ball in my throat. The drought in my mouth has reached its peak and my lips crack for lack of moisture. Ive been hit hard, so hard that i can't feel the pain anymore. Tears refuse to cool my burning cheeks. I've been cut deep but blood refuses to flow. My head is a receptor of many uncertainties but every now and then, my mind bids me "Be still, it's not over yet".