Messages that concealed my crime

The beats of my heart are like the pounding of drums, their echo heard by every part that resides in my body: the mind, the ears, and the eyes. The redness that touches my nose and cheeks is in solidarity with my feelings and the chill of the weather. How can I write this message accurately when my hands hardly stop trembling and shaking? Is it because of the cold? Or due to the torrent of words pouring abundantly from my mind? Or is it the echo of my parts continually applauding this moment, sparked by the word that Maryam spoke during the dinner feast