My Melancholic Mask

They had already shaped their own grave with their own hands. They wanted to keep their ashes in the protective urn. Lighting their candles and feeling them inside was all they desired at this point.

They could not even manage to die in this damn world. They wanted to end their misery before this constant fear. They sat down again to light the blaze of hell. They created a new crying mask and wore it so as not to call for death again.

They could no longer see the silhouette of the clay vase they had created. They began to drown in different problems, grief, and melancholy. It made no sense! They could not defeat their personality, their thoughts, and their body. It was a new story of not being exterminated.
Yes! They were not afraid of death anymore. Still, life suffocated them as well because of the crying mask on their face. They could surrender neither to life nor to death. They floated in their thoughts, drowned themselves until they stood breathless.