A War Within, A War Without

If ever arises the situation of war in front of my eyes,
If I ever find myself still breathing till sunrise,
I'd want to be a part of it before last goodbye,
I'd want to serve at least once, just once before I die.
Why?
Because then:
Nobody would ask my name,
Wouldn't matter I earned no fame.
Wouldn't matter who I became or what I could be,
Wouldn't matter I held no name in history.
Wouldn't matter how many times I failed,
Wouldn't matter my ship of hope never sailed.
Wouldn't matter my shattered dreams,
Wouldn't matter my silent screams.
Wouldn't matter my trembling voice,
Wouldn't matter my faux courage and poise.
Wouldn't matter my cries for help,
Wouldn't matter I tried to kill myself.

At least for once I'd taste how it feels to be proud,
And there would be no unnecessary doubt.
At least for once wouldn't matter the future,
Wouldn't matter my hardships and failed endeavour.
Wouldn't matter my storm was never fortified,
Wouldn't matter what mattered I never tried.
Wouldn't matter the evil shadow in disguise,
Wouldn't matter its shrill and haunting eyes.
Wouldn't matter how scared I was,
Wouldn't matter I never found the cause.

If ever arises a situation of war and I am still able to fight,
If I can still stand strong and hold my fists tight.
I'd fight one last battle with zeal and abide,
March forward with fierce, unfaltering stride.
With the crushing weight of rampage thrown wide,
Wouldn't bother to mask my hatred that I often denied.
Why?

because then:
My insecurities wouldn't matter enough for me to hide,
Wouldn't matter the tides of memories; I'd be my own guide.
Wouldn't matter I couldn't see the happiness nor flashing light,
Even when it was beaming with joy and shined so bright.
Wouldn't matter I questioned the solicitude of all,
Wouldn't matter how I let all the bondage fall.

Wouldn't matter how my silence could never fade,
For it hefted the smile that hid the vindictive blade.
Wouldn't matter my eyes held the lust for the devil's blood,
Wouldn't matter how I always stepped back and fell with a loud thud.
Wouldn't matter the journey anymore nor a never reached destination,
Wouldn't matter the pieces of my heart broken in devastation.
Wouldn't matter my words filled with venom and rage,
Wouldn't matter that I prayed you dead in a cage.

Wouldn't matter the shadows of guilt and penitence,
Nor would matter your judgement of me and my hesitance.

All the darkness would seep out with the blood of mine or yours,
So would the destiny of the past, the present, and the future of ours.
We'd fight the battle, either against each other or side by side,
We'd fight for all the ages we existed with swallowed pride.
Would never think twice before inflicting bruises and cuts,
Would never look back at the stagnant life of ruts.
Wouldn't matter what survived of me and what nearly died,
For I was merely living a tragedy; never truly alive.

If ever arises the situation of war without,
If I ever get to anchor my soul and slowly sprout,
Maybe then I'd fathom what truly living is about,
Maybe then I'd bloom in hues of love throughout.

-Komal Sharma