In The End
I struggle. There is no other way to describe it.
It was rough. I realized it could have been no other way.
It was a battle. I knew blood would be shed because of it.
There was pain. Beyond the physical. Motivation to live was everything.
There was perseverance. Through it all they did their best to survive.
There were loses. Both sides suffered great. Far more than what they were willing to.
But there were victories. Those that survived, lived.
There were those they lived. They were the ones who suffered the most.
But endured to live for more than themselves.
They did struggle. They continued to struggle.
Once the battle was over and the wounds began to heal.
They struggled with their new knowledge.
The new knowledge of the true now. That they lived with what happened.
The history they carried made them continue. To struggle but they knew they had to live.
The struggle to keep those lost alive. In a new way that could never die.
It was, and always will be, a struggle.
In the end, there is no other way to describe it.