You are at war with the well-meant words that tell you to come back to battle. But for now, you find solace in the chores you do in solitude.
Just when you thought you were ready to fight again. Instead, it contents you knowing that the only people you face lately are those with you at home, resting. You are in conflict with yourself again.
Better than returning to a cruel life pace.
If only they knew how much the pain and exhaustion you’ve been through have dried out much of your kindness and courage.
You opt to run away from it all. Now you sprawl on the dirt, basking in your illusion of tranquility. You hear familiar cries from miles away, calling you to stand with them again. In silence, you let the stars send back your plea—to let you rest for God knows how much longer.
What you are doing just screams out “wrong” deep within you. You wish you could get back on your feet and be with them, but you won’t be doing any good in such a dismal state.
The sad truth sinks in: there’s only little time left to breathe easy. You should be armed by now. Life is an endless fight, and retreating only gives you momentary peace.
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