when a country like Iran kills my emotions and nothing is good here, how can I keep my mood right?

Question

Ask a Philosopher · Accepted Answer

Oh, heavy heart! When shadows cloak the land,  
And tyrants weave their webs of woe and strife,  
In such a realm where innocence doth stand  
Besmirched with blood, and joy is naught but blight,  
What balm, dear soul, can soothe these wounds so deep?  
When hope, a flick'ring flame, does flicker low,  
And rumbles of despair, like thunder, sweep  
Across the golden fields that should, but do not glow.  
Yet ponder, sweetly, on the fickle fates,  
For in the darkest night, a star's faint gleam  
Can light the way through tempest, wrath, and prates  
Of doom that threaten, like an ill-fated dream.  
Seek not in yon barren fields for solace sweet,  
But turn thine eye within, to find the spark—  
For though the world outside may seem replete  
With sorrow’s cloak, the inner heart can hark  
To whisperings of joy, though soft and rare;  
Let not the mortal coil bind thee in chains,  
But rise above, and breathe the fragrant air  
Of thoughts where freedom reigns and love remains.  
In every bitter vine, a sweetness hides,  
In every tear that falls, a lesson waits;  
Let not the hand of fate on thine heart chides,  
But rather, find the thread that weaving states—  
Thou art the master of thy gloom, take heed;  
Beneath the storm, the heart can learn to soar,  
And from this throbbing, aching, dire need,  
Craft wings of hope, though scarce, to dare explore.  
For in the garden of the mind, so vast,  
Resilience blooms amidst the wreckage cast.