The Silent Cry of Violence Violence is a wound that bleeds in silence. It is a hand raised in anger, a word sharpened like a blade, a look that drains the soul. It is not just the bruises on the skin but the scars carved deep into the heart. Whether it falls upon a woman, a man, or a child, violence leaves no one unbroken. For a woman, it may be the silent terror of a home that feels like a prison, love weaponized to chain her soul. For a man, it may be the crushing weight of expectations, fists that strike his dignity, or words that question his very worth. For a child, it is the betrayal of safety, the loss of innocence, and the haunting confusion of being hurt by those meant to protect. Violence does not discriminate, yet it leaves its mark differently on each. It whispers lies that say you deserved it, that no one will believe you, that this is just the way things are. But none of this is true. The truth is that violence feeds on silence and thrives in darkness. It grows where empathy is absent, and power is abused. It is a choice made by the oppressor, not the fault of the oppressed. To end violence, we must confront it with honesty. Call it by its name. See it not as a "private matter" but a societal disease. Stand beside survivors, not above them. Teach compassion, not dominance. No woman should fear the night. No man should suffer in silence. No child should grow up in a world where love hurts. We must be brave enough to break the cycle, bold enough to demand change, and tender enough to heal together. Because every life deserves dignity, safety, and love—not pain, not fear, not violence.