Life becomes a war.
And the world.
The world only wins when we stop trying.
In the end, don't we all lose anyway?
All we have is the pride of trying.
It's what life is.
An attempt at defeating the inevitable.
The ineveitable is the inevitable because there are no ways to get around it.
Is the loss of the war.
The loss that takes us from the war so that we don't have to fight anymore.
Why is it so sad then?
We aren't in a war anymore.
We are at peace.
You would think that we would all be happy with that.
But we have a bad habit
Of getting attached to other soldiers.
When they lose,
The left are left feeling abandonement.
They have a hole in their hearts where the people used to be.
Some people lost the game for themselves because
The war has beaten them down to a pulp.
Too small to even want to see themselves.
Some people fight even more for this reason.
They fight for the ones who were lost.
Rushing into the wind between the door and the field.
Once you leave,
You face the guns,
And the bodies.
Your apponent isn't another person though.
It is the fight for your mind.
The things that you only get one of.
You lose one,
Try your hardest,
And be satisfied that you tried
They were yanked from your grasp before you could say "no."
Theives are the murderers.
Murderers are death itself.
You try, you fail.
You fail knowing that it wasn't your fault.
It's wasn't your fault that anyone else lost the fight.
Not your fault that you lost yours.
Unable to determine which is the better inevitability.
Human dignity + compassion = Peace.