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  • Andre Lamartin

Scars of War

The scars of war never fade: wounded memories are never displayed. They are carried inside wherever you go, a different yesterday you will never know. When you become a stranger in your own home, your mind is destined always to roam. As valor becomes a punishable crime, an imprisoned mind serves endless time. The mind is taken as a prisoner of war, when battles claim so much more, than the soldier first pledged when allegiance he swore. What is victory if solitude remains, the price of freedom for yesterday´s pains? The solitude of a soldier is bearing alone, the weight of his brothers who never went home. Where once he fought as a familial team, he now stands alone hearing yesterday´s screams. When war is waged inside your heart, the battlefield itself tears you apart. But absolute darkness is never truly vanquished, by becoming defiantly heartless and eternally anguished. No end ever comes to a tragic start, when your conscience is numb to what tore us apart. If we sacrifice honor slaying abominable monsters, we become monsters ourselves, a fate no honorable duty ever compelled. By justify killing innocent civilians, because the war has cost untold billions, surviving relatives become tomorrow´s villains, another target, another mission: an inescapable prison of endless attrition. At what point is victory declared, while scenes of carnage are forever aired? An endless war can never be won, if a father´s tragedy is revisited on his son. What is the meaning of courage displayed, when a soldier remains eternally unafraid, but the price of peace can never be paid? A war rages outside and within: only one alone can you ever win. No one overcomes a violent past, if the same questions are forever asked. When silence is the only answer Time provides, wounded memories must gently be set aside. As a troubled yesterday is laid to rest; a peaceful tomorrow is entertained at last. Though the scars of war never fade, one must soldier on… eternally unafraid.

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