I saw them. They seem okay. Seem to live like a tree. Seem to look like a tree. Then I saw the cement boxed around them and the little soil that keeps them alive.
And I felt sorry.
Like the trees grown in the city, some of us now lives a life boxed by the rules and lifestyle the world imposes on us, we became ornaments. Like the trees who could have grown more bigger and more fuller in the wild, we can also gain our full potential if we can go out and see what life really is.
I know, I know that a man mounted in a horse, armed with steels can only be seen now in movies but is war only defined by these things? Removing these armed warriors or canon in the equation, I know that in our daily lives we still are living in a war within ourselves, within our life.
How come we tend to forget the thrill of risks? The agony of suffering and the sweetness of success?
How come we tend to avoid the feeling of falling? The feeling of mounting up again?
How come we tend to be the average, to say yes to a stable, straight life?
How come we forgot the magic of chivalry?
War does not end in winning or losing, war is a loop of practicing and getting ready for a war you don't know when will break and life is a war, within ourselves, within the matters that we came in contact with.
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