🔵 By Thomas Riffenburg. Photo by lauragrafie.
I was raised by those who knew only war, never was there a moment of tenderness, closed in by invisible walls of fate, molded into anothers’ idea of an honorable man, what there was of a heart within me, functioned only within its predetermined boundaries,
anything else unknown,
simply turned my heart back,
I was stuck,
yet I hardly knew that,
I actually believed I was somebody,
a person to be imitated,
all the stripes of greatness I had earned,
tattoo’s filled my skin in declaration,
my name held a certain weight,
I was a man of men,
and yet,
and yet I felt empty,
sitting atop it all,
my head was 6 feet above the ground, not within the clouds up high, the crown I wore was blood, placed there by my own hands, ones that never seemed to be clean, deep thoughts filled my mind, my spirit still searched, things were easier within times past, harder was it for my heart now,
it was strange to look for life,
I thought I had already lived it,
but then,
but then I realized peace was a lie here,
blood on the ground declared that,
so I set down my weapons,
I found my heart soften,
I looked at people not as enemies,
but as potential friends,
my spirit didn’t seem so heavy, I looked for things I never knew, I found something called mercy, I tried it out, I thought I might have seen God smile, no more did I fight with man, no more did I fight with myself, I had forgotten my hands weren’t red, my floor was clean, I smiled my first genuine smile of happiness.