The War within

The War is going on. Some days I can't stand the pain, the noise of clanching swords, the smell of the the blood. Some days I see only in red and black, the red of the spilled blood, and the black of the darkness around me.

Some other days I ask for more. More blood, more pain, more heads that roll away, more open chests. I want more violence. I need more violence to stay alive, to keep out of me my rage, my weakness, the darkness. And then, when I don't feel anymore, I'm safe. Without a soul, but safe.

I need to stay alone, it's the only way not to wound anybody but myself. I need to stay away from anybody who is not strong enough for me, who is not pure enough for me. I don't have the strenght to carry anybody else. I don't have the strenght to fight without inflicting too much pain. I want to survive. I can kill to survive. I don't want to kill or hurt the wrong people

The defeat

I'm beated. I don't feel anymore my body, and what I feel is pain. Pure and simple pain.

I trusted a friend, I loved a friend, and the friend became my opponent. My weaknesses have been exploited, my defence wiped out. And in a moment I was just my sense of guilt, of uselessness. I was unable to react, unable to run away, unable to defend myself. Not my body, not my soul. I didn't manage to defend myself. I could only pray for the pain not to last long, for the rage to flow over me and go.

Passing through me it was over. And now I can barely stand. I'm weak, I'm defeated, I'm in pain.

I'm tired.