You try to fight ‘til the very end. But you end up wounded. You cry until the pain stops. But when will it really end? Everything hurts. The fighting.. the failure.. and the fact remains that you were just the one who decided to fight for it. You’re alone in the battle. Fighting.. trying.. hoping. But you still end up losing.
From the comforts of the bed where I lay, I saw a light struck right past my window. A metal in the table says its past one in the morning. The sky is red and I can smell the moistened soil. It’s raining.