Strife

I am a soldier, but not the kind who marches into battle with sword and shield. I am a soldier of beauty. Amidst iron and fire, a war rages within me; a war to uncover the meaning of my existence.
Was I made to defend my values, or to fight against ugliness? This question echoes in my mind each day, and it leaves me lost in the cold, dark world around me. Every time I look outward, I encounter more hidden truths. I don’t know what I should protect, or when the time will come to step into the field.
Was I made to defend my values, or to fight against ugliness? This question echoes in my mind each day, and it leaves me lost in the cold, dark world around me. Every time I look outward, I encounter more hidden truths. I don’t know what I should protect, or when the time will come to step into the field. Confusion grips my heart, but still, I remain. I seek the respect I deserve, and I wish to defend beauty. I long to stand against ugliness, especially when beauty is challenged.
Even when I lose myself in difficult times, my existence must leave a mark. I want to be remembered as a soldier of love, a symbol of the struggle to preserve beauty and light in a dark world. The title of “soldier” will not rest solely on my shoulders; I carry hope, love, and beauty with me.
For I know that even when I am no longer here, it is this love for beauty that defines me. I, the soldier of love, will never die; my story will live on in the hearts of those who fight to understand beauty.