I wonder when will this war shall end.

I’ve given up my sword, I’ve laid down my shield. I took every catapult, still the war rages on. Every archer on the woods burned by the fire the enemies have created, every swordsman up front cut like a piece of fruit.

There you were, the last man standing on a deceitful yet beautiful array of grass, blood shed on every leaf. And I, on the other, down on my knees, still standing yet impertinently losing.

The war have served its purpose.

You won. I lost