I’ve stained the sky with smoke. I’ve buried the land in ash.
I’ve taken the food until children poke through piles of garbage for a single mouthful, and taken the water until women wait in the blazing sun for a cup of dirty water.
Houses explode into a quiet night, and some innocent passer-by could be the target for the next stray bullet. I have covered this land in pain and fear so deep that they will never be able to break through. Never be able to win.
My work here is perfect.

***

I can see the sky through the buildings, painted in deep purple and peach. It’s quiet right now, just the sounds of people talking, and a bus rattling down the road. Someone’s bouncing a ball; down the road a neighbour is working on their house, repairing a fence broken in the last raid. Each one thankful for momentary respite, even knowing that the silence will soon be broken again.

***      

I could blow up the quiet, but I don’t. The destruction will be all the more devastating for the short rest. There is little they can do with the time—pain clings closer than the dust of this place. Their history written in the rubble and screams that make their future.

***

A piece of glass sparkles on the dusty road, reflecting the evening light. Even with the rubble at the end of the street, and the bullet holes in the building, my homeland is beautiful. We have been forged in fire, and will stand in the storm.

***

Stories lie. They say that there is a solution — that happy endings can happen. They could not be further from the truth. War just builds the bridges for more bloodshed, and peace paves the road for corruption. The only way to survive happily is become so strong no one can become stronger. And to enjoy being strong.

***

We know there is no ending to the pain – in this life. Yet we keep fighting and loving and rebuilding and hoping and breathing. Painting pictures in the rubble; planting flowers in empty gardens. We bind up wounds knowing they will only be reopened, and we fix houses knowing they will only be destroyed. We smile knowing tears will wash it away, and we live knowing death will take us all.
And we love.

We love deeper than any bullet hole, stronger than any explosion, longer than any war. Because we were loved.  We won’t win this war, but that is fine. We weren’t put here to win. We were put here to love.