I thought I have felt the edge of Death's Blade
My bones were brutally broken and shattered. Just like the will to keep standing.
My muscles ache of the arrows and spears in the back. These were of the traitors whom once were trusted.
Blood runs down every face.
Sitting in devastation, with no other survivors.
The war is lost.
The will to rise is questioning within itself.
You ask a simple question: How can I live with this pain and grief? And if so, what now?
The kingdom has fallen.
Even with great spirits of hope, our war was lost.
Unable to move, yet with the power to breathe.
My spirit is tainted. My temple runs in blood and ruins.
Unlike the bretheren that began to bond back to nature, I was unable to.
Wounded, but yet still alive.
Acquiring the spirit to lift yourself, remove the arrows from your back, and walk through the pain is never an easy thing to do.
Especially with sorrow that outweighs your thirst for the most forsaken hatred of all: Vengeance.
But in this violence, nothing is learned, gained, nor shared.
All that can be done for the concept of war and it's inevitable casualties, is to continue to give love to even those that take and leave nothing.
This lesson is sometimes learned and never forgotten.
Other times, hatred clouds the mind's judgement, and this battle of hatred and forgivence continues as history ascends.
The winner of this battle following the war will determine the fruit of our future.
This is why I have not submitted myself to the vines of nature.
I choose melt away into history,
only to become stronger and smarter.
I will do my best to reach for the heavens,
for the people that will follow us,
will not suffer an upbringing, shadowed by the towering mountains of defeat, oppression, hatred and pessimism, but as a brighter future. A world to look forward to, crafted by survivors for the newer generations.
I choose to rise as STEEL.