I've been thinking,
about the rising up, call to arms, out of the ashes way,
in which living is supposed to go.
The battlefield,
on which we are meant to leave our hearts and say we won the war.
Strength is always seen in the conquering, the moving on, the getting over.
We've given no regard for the staying, the breathing, the choosing.
Things that are not accompanied by charismatic victory.