O Hali, to still harbor the craving to wander around alive is the absolute limit of shamelessness.

In this striking couplet of raw self-reproach, Hali turns an unforgiving gaze inward to question his own stubborn instinct to survive. When a person has witnessed the loss of everything they held sacred—whether it is personal honor, purpose, or a beloved world that vanished—clinging to the desire to simply go on wandering alive feels like a betrayal. It beautifully captures that devastating threshold of grief where breathing itself begins to feel like a shameless act.