Image: Dick Price, The War After The War
The doorknob turned as anarchy stormed in.
Violence ensued.
Mercy fled.
The war waged on the battlefield of time.
The adversaries bellowed their distinctive battle cries charging to defend their cause ordered by their respective commanders.
Like any good soldier, you fight the battle without understanding the cause—that’s what you signed up to do.
Since relinquishing your thoughts, feelings, and views to your leader, you no longer command your own life.
Someone else dictates your actions, your every move, and your way of living.
You have only the voice of your leader’s commands and orders echoing throughout your being.
Your true identity’s been stripped—dead to the world, dead to anyone you encounter, especially noticeable to those desiring a connection with you.
No chapter exists in your war manual for appropriately interacting with those longing to be close to you because you’ve been programmed to die.
Relationships necessitate life.
Your life’s no longer yours.
Regrettably true, you’ve sold your soul forgetting you were born free with liberty to move about unfettered.
As the battle persists—lives cut down, enemies (of your leader) destroyed—you feel victorious because it seems you’re winning.
I inquire of you, “What are you winning—your master’s war?”
You can give no thought to my questions presently. If you do, you will die on this non-self-imposed battlefield.
Your commander equipped you with the art of war to do combat in his battle, defending his interests, in his stead.
For your survival, you must follow his instructions to the letter until this battle’s end. Only then can you embrace your truth and purpose lying just beyond this war zone.
Hold on soldier—fight for your survival so you can live to determine your own destiny.
Peace…
Nesi Writes
