Novel & Cerita Empathy Poetry

Their presence was a comforting balm to those who had endured immense pain and suffering. Emily felt the weight of responsibility as she connected with individuals whose lives had been shattered. Her empathy ran deep, and she carried their stories within her heart. "Your resilience is astounding. I cannot begin to fathom the depth of your pain, but together, we will navigate this journey of redemption," she assured them, her voice filled with a mix of compassion and determination.

I dropped to my knees in front of her and held out my hand. “Do you need food? Shelter?” I asked softly. “I need someone to listen. Just… stay here. Don’t leave me.” I sat beside her, crisscrossing my legs. I didn’t say anything else. I just sat. Silent and present. My fingers brushed her tiny hand and in a flash, the illusion shimmered and she faded like smoke. I exhaled. This is what empathy means. Not always fixing. Not always saving. Sometimes just being there. A second path opened to my left. I followed it deeper, my chest was tight... but warm. I was learning, I realized. This world, these people, my mate… all of it was teaching me how to be better.

…… One word is too often profaned For me to profane it, One feeling too falsely distain'd For thee to distain it; One hope is too like despair For prudence to smother, And pity from thee more dear Than that from another. I can not give what men call love: But wilt thou accept not The worship the heart lifts above And the heavens reject not, And the desire of the moth for the star, Of the nigth for the morrow The devotion to something afar From the sphere of our sorrow. (by Shelley)

“This one I wrote inspired by the report of a co-worker, as soon as she returned from maternity leave. The baby just a few months old made her open her mind to the so-called empathy thing. I discovered that I was not very empathetic in some subjects and the reflection ended up reaching me too. 'It's hard when human beings completely lose sensitivity to the pain of others. The famous empathy. Stop being human to be just a being. I've been reflecting on the fragility of empathy over time and circumstances, looking for answers that may never come. I was at Mc Donald's with my mother and my daughter, who was about six months old at the time. We didn't live in total tightness, but we did math. Ar

“I’m asking because I get what it’s like, carrying everyone else on your back.” Garrett stepped closer then, eyes wide like he’d just seen a ghost, or maybe a miracle. “You’re not controlling us. You’re… letting us in.” “Exactly.” Lyra grinned, and you could almost hear the tension in the room pop like a bubble. “Empathy isn’t about twisting people. It’s about actually listening, letting yourself be seen too.” Tormund shuffled nearer to the fire, old hands stretched out to the flames. “That thing that killed your brother, totally backwards from this. It stole feelings, twisted them, made people hollow.”

The anger I felt toward Jason was a constant, burning thing, but it was eclipsed by this—a hollow ache in my chest every time I looked at her. "I know you can't hear me," I started, my voice barely audible. I reached out, my fingers hovering just above her hand before I finally dared to touch her knuckles. "But I need to say this. I spent my whole life thinking that empathy was a weakness, something that would make me vulnerable to my enemies. But looking at you... broken because I wasn't there fast enough... I realized I was wrong."

Yui warmly smiled and looked up the sky once again. “My mom told me to sing this song when I miss them.” Closing his eyes and touches his chest, he said, “And it was really like a charm which calms my heart.” Looking at Zitrey, “But, she also told me, that it was a song that will love by the people who was also longing for someone. Looking at you, in your eyes and your stares, it bathed me in an abyss filled with sadness and loneliness, and hatred. You also are having a hard time, don't you?” This guy, he has such a weird skill in empathy and very straightforward.

It was at that point that a poem came to mind; “What is this strange feeling called? Like an empty can I feel void of emotions, void of life I feel the silence strangling life off me I want to scream I want to shout But no, The only thing that came out is a noise, not even loud enough to show just how I feel”

Arrogance befit no man for whatever we have today, won’t be buried with us tomorrow. ~Humeyra. HAMDAN’S P.O.V The last messages I got from Humeyra really messed me up. I didn’t know that I meant so much to her that my death would affect her as much as she said. The poem she wrote to me still lingers in my mind as I recall my heart beating to every word that her poetry entailed. The poem goes as follows:

~ ™Away I go, carried on wings of passion™ ™Drinking droplets of time™ ™My heart has flown from it's cage™ ™Falling in love with myself, Embracing lie with open arm™ ™Away I go, carried on wings of passion™ ™My heart has frown from it's cage™ ™Falling in love with myself, Embracing life with open arms™ ™Clasping the moment in your fingertips like a butterfly™ ™As it takes wing it leaves traces of Colour™ ™The moment moves on, leaving it's Colour behind Sera™ ™I clasp another moment as it takes flight™ ™Embracing life with open arms ,Away I go carried on wings of passion™ ™My heart had flown from it's cage™ ™Falling in love with myself, embracing life with open arms™ ~ I fall on the floor as