Born with nothing in my hand,
I stumbled into this land—
Once a dream,
Now swallowed by chaos' stream.

Here, three things stand:
War,
A gun,
And death’s command.

A war for broken minds,
A gun to silence signs,
A death to erase a name—
And still, they smile at the game.

But I refuse to live this dream.
I seek a place beyond the screams.
Isn't it funny, to hope and cross,
For peace inside a world of chaos?

My mind is still dull and dimmed with fog
From a recent string of sleepless nights,
But coffee and breakfast have done me good.
The sky bears no clouds and my vision is bright.

The itching stripes underneath my sleeves
Are fading to pink as they start to repair.
Those hours in Hell which then felt eternal
Are now a mere slash on a calendar square.

A quiet, bright jingling rings in my ears
With each steady pace into this new day,
As hung on a chain 'round my neck swings a pendant
Stamped with the words, "MEMENTO VIVERE."