Of War and Fire
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Title: Of War and Fire
Author: Genji
Date: Jan 8, 2001
Warnings: Abstractness, cynicism
Pairings: None
Notes: Another one of my weird POV pieces, this time OZ soldier. Maybe Evan, maybe someone else, frankly I just did what the candle told me to do...
Disclaimer: Um, I don't own the unmentioned and implied ideas. However the written ideas are all mine. MINE! This is as close as I'll ever get to publishing my work, so don't even bother to sue me as all you'll get is a burnt out candle, a cheap candle holder and loud voices to pester you when you want silence and quiet voices when you want noise.
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War. It's like fire, fire without the benefit. When fire burns it gives off something in return for all it takes. Light and heat, heat and light, both are essential to life. Humans have flourished because of fire, and fire has been our downfall as well, destroying thousands of lives and millions of acres. But even after the flames have died away, there is still something left-- the nutrients have been returned to the soil and life goes on.
War? There's none of that give and take idea, only blood and death. Blood waters our meadows, but nothing grows on a battlefield. It's too tainted for the earth to let things go about their natural course; it is her token to the dead that have fallen-- her silent memorial. Death is darkness, a thing that this world needs less of, it snuffs out too many bright souls that have too much to offer and too much to lose.
Only the good die young, because evil will always be a part of humanity, goodness is just a passing façade. We're driven by the baser emotions, and war is just an inevitable constant. And when the battle is done, what is left, but shattered dreams and broken promises? What has been gained? Nothing, nothing at all. War came first and war shall be the last thing our sad species will experience. There is no light at the end of the tunnel, no promised Utopia.
They told us kids, 'don't play with fire,' but they told us to go to war as loyal soldiers. They demanded that we give matches and lighters to an adult, but they also demanded that we go shoot each other for the sake of our country because it was 'right'. They told us to stick to our guns, but which guns did they want us to stick to?
Oh, you spoke with a forked tongue and look where I am. I listen to everything you said; I followed every rule you made. I didn't play with those matches and yet I die. Wasn't I a good kid? I never broke the law, I never sped down the highway of life, I never got a chance to even live. Why must I forfeit everything? What have I achieved by lying here, bleeding to death on this nameless battlefield? What have I done to leave my mark on the world?
If only we had been taught other means to settle our conflicts. The world is our playground and we do battle, but there is no principal to separate our bleeding corpses. But there is no one, no one to bring us peace and we will fight to the bitter end.
Fire can be put out with water and that fire is gone forever; war will simply run its course and then go underground until the next rumblings of discontent are heard. I only wish that we who die can teach those who live that it is better to give their children matches and take away their weapons, instead of the misguided advice we were given. Then perhaps they would not have to put away their toys and go outside to play-- with guns.
~OWARI~
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© 2001 by Genji. Please do not remove without permission.
