Everyday day and night my mind goes to war with itself. My thoughts are like the storming Normandy, my nerves are shellshocked, and fighting is the only thing I have to make it out of this nightmare. But even when I finally have a day, where I can relax, where I find peace, I search for war, I daydream of violence. It’s almost exciting. It’s almost as if I’m looking forward to for those moments. 

It’s the rush of seasoned war veteran. 

I’ve done oil my rifle and load my clips waiting to serve my country. I started fighting as child and I became a man with this gun in my hand. I can’t imagine living without it. 

But after the wars and the battles, after the lost brothers and bruises. I don’t know what to do with my gun. I’ve brought back demons and memories and lost my innocence for the greater good. I paid the price for war in more than blood. My spirit no longer know the calms of river. It only knows the tides of ocean. The waves of a thunderstorms, the shine of lightning, the scorns of the gods.  

The Morning sun loss a bit of its novelty every raise and nights are but a wrinkle in time from a life I can no longer reach for. And still I oil my gun and load my clips ready for my last and final war. 

For the war against self

Win lose or draw I’m a soldier