Till lambs become lions. 

​I wish there was a crash course in human emotion.Of how to react when certain things happen. A book that shows us a step to step guide on how to deal, when to deal and when to stop feeling. A book whose categories are all the tragedies of life; hate, loss and love. 

There is none.

 The pleasures of life come in small faint whispers while pain comes banging and knocking like a drunk whore with no regard to what you are doing.His voice loud enough to awake a deaf man. 

Life on the other hand carries on like a spectator not wanting to stop for my selfish needs. Not giving me time to pick myself up. Morning will come, it has no choice.   

But that’s not the sad part, the sad part is everything else after that. The slowly drifting away like a balloon. With no place to land. Becoming a being so empty human emotions are foreign. Staring aimlessly into space and even time has become an illusion. Breathing becomes a task, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, inhale, inhale and now I am  drowning and at that moment I am somehow at peace. Exhale. 

 I have become so good at numbing the pain during the day then falling into an endless void of emptiness at night.laying there in shards of brokeness and trying to repiece them together. I pick up other pieces, pieces that we’re never mine to begin with and force them to fit.

But in the morning I choose between the blood of war or the water of silence, of good war or bad peace, of which arms to push away and which arms to run into. To surrender or to fight. 

We will fight and fight till lambs become lions. 

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