"hey, sir, carry the kid, please."

"she's not breathing. let's go to the hospital. NOW!" but the soldier didn't hear. or didn’t care to.

life is a loaded dice. crooked. cruel. the ones who hand out bread are the first to starve. and there they are, reaching the summit in seconds, not climbing but parading. while our feet blistered to the bone, stuck in the trenches, not even halfway there.

so with one arm gone, i lift the weight of a child.

god, what's this world made of? where does this end? this world hangs like an upside-down lantern, its light skewed. its beauty lost in the wrong angle. i stood up, like a knight who forgot the meaning of war. marching. dragging. one foot over the other, not to go forward, but to keep myself from falling back.

forward isn't always forward. sometimes it's sideways. sometimes...