They knew they were at war, but the guards held their posts, never admitting defeat. They fought for feeling, they fought for hope, they fought for love in all it's varied forms. They stood their ground because of their faith, never showing their fear as each guard buckled at the knees and collapsed next to the rubble of the walls that they protected with the beating in their chests. They hurt for the lost but they fought on because it was all they could do in a world so far lost within itself. All they could do was connect to the trees, to the words, to the blank stares of the misguided, to the eyelashes, to the inflection, to the lyrics, to the blues and the grays and the emeralds, to the air that they breathed into their lungs, to the broken, to the sunshine, to the perspiration, to the insects. All they could do was connect to it and hope within it. Because every feeling they felt was pure and beautiful, it was raw and untouched. Every breath that hurt was theirs to breathe. It became harder to breathe, harder to hope, harder to trust, harder to fight, harder to desire, harder to let go, harder to live. The pain became inspiring; all the while defeating to watch months of time shattered carelessly, scattering the wasteland with wreckage of words, soft limbs against smooth flesh, shallow breathing, buried faces, warmth, unspoken syllables and broken blood vessels. Though what do they have if not to keep fighting? To fall to pieces and to love every crack as much as they hate to see their memories in fading fragments. To let go, whether it's towards a light or a fleeting darkness. To let the corners of their mouths turn up and to be okay with it, to be inspired by it, to know that it's okay. To know that every battle isn't lost, that no battle is fought in vain. Because any battle worth fighting will still hold it's meaning in the end. Because any fight worth fighting will end in flames or not at all. Because it will have meant something; it will have inspired, taught, brightened, warmned, endeared, darkened, changed, electrified. What more can they hope for in the end but to feel to the greatest depths of their being? It's humanity defined.
Current Music: dispatch.