The revolution swelled from the ocean and overtook the land in a single, unforgiving inhale.
Screams of pain and sorrow echoed through the valleys.
Blood swept the streets.

A mother and son found themselves on opposite sides.

The son watched with a stoic stare and quiet resolve as his mother was dragged through the ghosts of what used to be.

Only years later—once the death squads had vanished and silence reclaimed the land—did he allow himself to weep.

Not just for her,

but for all that was lost in the fury of his youth.