A Salient and Silent Battle
The Quiet Rebellion of Not Giving Up
29 Nov, 2025
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My mind is a battlefield
Where two armies face each other:
One half armed with hope,
The other with despair and disillusionment.
One voice whispers,
“Begin again.”
And the other asks,
“Why bother?”
They argue
over every heartbeat,
Over the meaning of pain,
Over the weight of memory,
Over whether tomorrow
Is a promise
Or a trap.
Oftentimes,
they wound each other—
With silence
As the only bandage.
And yet, in this mental war
Of thought against thought,
Something survives:
A modest, thin thread
Holding the ruins together
And refusing to tear apart.
Perhaps it is courage,
Or maybe it is fear.
Perhaps it is nonchalance—
The stubborn instinct
To keep breathing
Even when the wind
Has forgotten why.
But this fragile thread
Is enough
To keep the army armed with hope, marching,
To keep the story unfolding,
To keep me alive
In this war zone,
Holding firm
To the notion
That even at the end of the darkest nights,
There is a sunrise.
