Defeated

It happened. I’m defeated. After all the battles I’ve fought, I’ve been defeated. There is no way to change this now. The defeat is over. The battlefield has cleared. There are only people searching for their missing loved ones left. And I am lying there, in a mountain of corpses, waiting for the fire to start burning us all. We all become nothing more than ash in the end.

There are still people to stubborn to realize there is nothing to change about this now. They want to go to war again. “Let’s fight again!” they say. “For your own good, go to battle once again, at least try!” You should all look me in the face and tell me in all seriousness, that I’m doing more right now than just wasting away.

I’ve been eating more again tough. But everything I eat will be nothing but ash, nothing more than earth on Planet Dirt, too. It all tastes so rotten. I taste the animals you killed and the chemicals you mixed to make it last longer. But it will rot. Most of it is already rotten at its core. I can taste the decay. But I eat. I’m putting the same chemicals in me, to make myself last longer too.

I find solace in the falling leaves. They have accepted their defeat. They had their times when they bloomed, but these times are over. They’re not trying to fight back. They silently get weaker and weaker, until they can’t hold on any longer and begin to fall. Sometimes I ask myself if the leaves falling to the ground feel like their really falling into a bottomless pit. They know they will be nothing more than ash in the end.

I will accept my defeat. I will accept what I’ve lost. I won’t try to fight again. Sometimes I feel like I should. There are things that are mine, it’s not fair to rip them away from me. But being defeated often is the only way of having a chance to win again.

And even tough I often feel like I have already given up, I am ready to win again.