In war, there is only one side.
Death, apparently!
So, I won't choose a swift death.
Between the mind and the heart, I choose neither.
I always follow time.
And so here is my note, should I be found
silent, cold, or even scattered -
I am of no consequence. I wasn't.
For we are just born into war.
But if I must choose, let it be in extreme pain.
Let me feel my life flow through and out.
Maybe then, just then, I would have a desire.
Or maybe I will just laugh at it ebb too.
For this war has worn me. I have worn it for too long.
And I shall hand over my soul, forlorn now,
And fish at the banks of Styx,
Never wanting to cross.
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