There it is again, our little imaginary battle.
This time, I’m the hydra and you are the hero. This time, I strike with my fangs, my tongue lashing, while you retaliate with the sharp end of your sword, your war cry reverberating. I’m always the menacing creature, the thing with the putrid breath, grimy onyx scales, and green eyes that contain snake-liked pupils. I’m always the foul evil creature that is destined to be slain and vanquish. While the glorious you in your dazzling grey armour and your rusty prized-sword, is destined to strike me down not once, not twice but forever.
And as we collide, your sword against my fangs, your glare against my gaze, your growl against my hiss, we severely maim. At the end, I lay there motionless as I gradually bleed to death while you too lay there motionless, severely intoxicated. It wasn’t long till Death claims us both. It wasn’t long till you receive all the glory while I was condemned even further.
But it’s not the end. For we always get reincarnated.
Haven’t you realised it’s always the same? It’s always the same poaching game, the same catch or be caught storyline, the same survivor of the fittest battle.
I was the cat and
you were the rat.
And before that,
I was stag and
you were the pack.
It never stops. Our little battles never stop.
Aren’t you tired? Because I am exhausted from all these ceaseless and irrational battles. What is the point? There is nothing to prove. Nothing to attain. Nothing at all. We are merely fighting based on instincts, are we not? I wish for it to end forever.
I wish for it to end forever. I wish for the pain to stop. I wish that I no longer need to sink my teeth into your meat, I wish you need not attempt to tear me apart when you see me, I wish that there is peace.
But I guess I should be grateful. For without you, without the pain, or the misery, I would be nothing. I would be someone without wisdom. After all, “We enjoy warmth because we have been cold. We appreciate light because we have been in darkness.”
You…you have taught me much.