I have seen how wars ruin people,
Death is probably one of the luckiest things to happen during wars,
Unluckier ones survive and they live with constant nightmares and become a shadow of once sparkled eyed, hopeful, bright young people, who believed in the good of the world.
The fear, the horror of the past is too heavy to carry and It’s easier to go insane than to face the gruesome reality of how evil people can be.
Those men, could be our sons, our brothers, our fathers, our lovers.
And those who win, can they peacefully live with the monster they have turned into on the battlefield? Can they ever truly forgive themselves and live like before again?
I don’t think so…
I don’t think life can ever be the same again before and after the war.
Then why, why don’t we learn?
In the end, all of us, every single one of us, dreams of being happy, going to our families and hugging our loved ones.
Why do we deprive each other from the chance of doing so?
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