The Road that Never Ended

Some roads end on maps. The unforgettable ones continue through the heart.

Some journeys begin beneath a sunrise, while others beneath the weight of goodbye.

Mine started where frightened boys borrowed uniforms too large for their names.

The roads through Bosnia measured distance not in miles, but in echoes that lingered.

Every shattered window reflected a version of myself I would never meet again.

Silence became the language spoken after smoke had finished its sentences.

I returned carrying no visible wounds, only landscapes folded carefully inside memory.

Years passed, yet certain rains still carried the scent of broken stone.

People asked whether I had finally come home, never knowing part of me remained behind.

The longest journey was never across a country, but back toward the person I had been.

Some roads end on maps; the unforgettable ones continue quietly through the heart.

Line-count : 10
Prompt for round 4: A Journey that you never forget.