It is an arena of endless battles. Every corner represents a stronghold of upheavals and hostilities. You, at the center of the edifice manifest a lonesome being – staring blankly at the walls you’ve been wanting to break. Every time you move your feet forward, voices of doubts are pushing you to step backward. At the end of every attempt, you are always left behind – still standing but with head down and broken faith.
The walls are getting stronger and thicker, creating a formidable defense against any unwanted force. You cried for help, prayed for miracle and asked for answer. When none was given, you blamed the world for everything. Your tears (you don’t know how hallowed they are) have become a depiction of blameful existence. For here you are again, a wounded fighter and a hopeless believer.
The battlefield has perpetually created an intertwining fabric of conflicts. It gave birth to baffling battles one has to conquer. However, it is not the deadliest wars that destroy the beauty of the world, these are the battles against one’s own self.
In the midst of all the fights, you forgot the beauty of every wound. You overlooked the lesson of every stumble. You took for granted the reason for fighting. All that was visible to you was the harshness of the world.
It never failed you, on the contrary, you failed it.
LIFE as a battleground is not supposed to be won, it should be experienced.