When you clean your weapon
When time and again, you clean your weapon
When you rub strong-smelling oils into your weapon
And shield it from the rain with your own body
When you swaddle it like a baby
Even though you’ve never swaddled a baby before —
You’re only nineteen, no baby, no wife —
The weapon becomes your only kin
You and the weapon are one.
Tag: <span>Independence</span>
The last miles are always the hardest. That’s when we feel tired, our feet hurt and every muscle and every bone in our body aches and seems to scream STOP, but the race is not over, and we continue to run on autopilot. We pursue the race without thinking and at the end, right after the finish line, we sit or lay down and feel empty.