Good Riddance

Close thy eyes. 

Gray and moving in a slow pace. Bricks turned into ashes, flags once raised are now burning in flames, it wasn't defeat, was not a win. It wasn't fair, it wasn't the flipside of prejudice. It was bullets after bullets planted in the seas of blooms and augmenting ivy. It was an act of surrender, cross-relating back to peace. 

Hang on tight, walk back home taking the path of ruins and the bridge coming undone. 

Red was the fire, turned blue as the riddance of weapons was the last assortment to embrace. Saunterly strolled between the fog of blindness and the gloom of letting it free. Bodies after bodies I once battled with in forbidden battlefields, will it resurrect? Will it come for me? A frustrated phoenix looking through the burning woods envisaged a mockingjay. It was cold and they were dead. Fell completely out of armor as the steels clatter in puddles and muds of regret. In sickness, in risk, and in threats. 

Flashbacks of war while bleeding out in gunshots. I can see it now. I should've ran as soon as I heard the eerie noises of doubts and eyes blank as the black entirety of an enclosed and undefiant place. Frontlines, I took it. Wore an armor so no one could see that the warrior is just kid. Plain ignorant, bathing in conflict and confusion. 

Open them now. 

The morning glory in its prime. To fight back is to be strong, but to hide and hasten is stronger. Treaties above grudges and from bullets to lavenders, the battleground is filled with crimson roses, and freely sitting in trenches at dawn to see how distant it got.

The wild is long gone. Drank the poison but all it did was made the embers alive. It was a defeat and a win all at once, it was fair and it lies in the better side of prejudice, it was bullets after bullets planted in the seas of blooms and augmenting ivy. It was an act of surrender, cross-relating back to peace. 

May the odds be ever in your favor. 

Close your eyes and let it out as you breathe.