The Pacifist
War clouds gather, here comes the rain. War never changes. War loves courage. War loves passion. War loves peace. War loves piecing macabre tales, end on end, and death after death. War loves retelling survivor story after survivor story, forgetting the guilt, the hurt and the anguish of unchained memory. We are, after all, in so many ways, just prisoners of war. Prisoners, you and I. Enslaved. (Though not of the same wars.) And everywhere I go now, I see prisoners- prisoners of hope, prisoners by betrayal and prisoners by choice. The ropes that bind the fragile wrists of one are ropes that rescue another. While the non-combatant reads between the (side) lines of War, The Pacifier realises that this is War in all its forms. This is loss in all its forms. War loves patience. War loves endurance. War loves loss. Loss- when you lose something you thought you’d never have to live without. Loss- when you lose something you fought so hard to...