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By: Matthew Wang

Centuries, war torn countries, fighting tooth and nail,

A freedom from oppressors, pyrrhic, bittersweet,

Civilizations razed, worlds shattered, rivers filled with blood,

Yet none more affected than those who survive.

Life regrows, exotic flowers bloom, sweet fragrance.

Small creatures resurface, populating the world once more.

Yet, despite the peace, birds singing their pretty songs,

The battle still rages on, a new battlefield – one’s mind.

Ghosts of the war, the voices in their heads, no respite,

Haunting them, stalking them, no peace, no paradise in sight.

A bloody siege on a soldier’s weakest battlements,

His hopes, his mind, his soul.

Torn by war, kept alive through pain, agony, misery,

A mind weighed down by guilt, sorrow, blood-stained hands,

A survivor’s doomed quest for peace has only one answer:

Death, an eternal, forever, slumber.

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