First I was a slave to those who captured me.
Then after I escaped, I became a slave to my anger and painful memory.
After my forgiving, I became truly free.
Once a leaf at the mercy of the wind, I am now a smiling tree.

Roman Philosopher Marcus Tullius Cicero once said “The life of the dead is placed in the memory of the living.”
The life of the dead is placed in the memory of the living.
I, Golden Leaf, behold such memory.
But for one decade … Over two … And about three … The memory manifested as pain, anger, and fear.
Half a world, the distance … Yet the memory is profoundly near.
Clear as glass, the memory of those who passed lived in my nightmare.
Scarred but unbroken, onto paper, I penned nightmare into dream.
A book, I published.
The memory, I preserved.
And dignity, I redeemed.
Nightmare is gone; so are fear, anger, and pain.
No more to lose, but everything to gain.
They who died have not died in vain.
The nightmare, I suffered; a golden purpose I gained.

They are forgiven but not forgotten.
If they reform and repent then, one day, they and I may be friends.
Heinous crime against humanity was their offense.
They killed my youngest sister and my parents.
From my immediate family, they killed ten.
Yet, if they reform and repent, I may one day call them friends.