How many millions have been in exile throughout the course of history?
An exile self-imposed, to get away from a tyrant who lacks patience for a tongue which speaks the truth.
An inconvenience to power, a chaotic element. In the Palace he is a thorn, outside of it he is a reminder that something is wrong. But at least outside he cannot harm the pretense of good the tyrant can engineer. At least outside he is seen only in dreams and memories of conscience.
An exile’s rage is a force powerful, yet boundless. That rage quickly loses its trail, meandering from the honest heart into labyrinths of thought, trapping him in himself, magnifying it, forgetting its source.
Exile leads to feelings of constant neglect and alienation, itself fuelling a new anger and downcast shame.
And always in his heart the guilt which tears him apart. Was it better to remain silent, to return to ignorance and allow evil to triumph?
But of course not, but the hard road of one going the long way to justice is seldom comfortable, and what reward can ease the tempest of a lifetime?
A doomed quest, until death and beyond it the Tyrant will deny his misdeeds. Maybe he will even believe in it, so narcissistic is he.
Still it is better to try, to wander and suffer in exile than to live in comfort in a nest of snakes, forced to swallow down poisons and become what one despises.