I finally realized how little my life is compared to the complexity of the world. It all happened suddenly— a split second decision that sealed my fate. Instead of obeying the evil that plagues this world, I had rebelled against it. At that same moment, I felt the sharp sting of a knife pierce my side. I looked up into the eyes of a comrade, someone who I once called a friend. I brought their betrayal upon myself the moment I turned against them. The truth stabbed me like the dagger in my side. One moment I was fighting for a damaging cause, believing I was doing good, and the next I was crawling away from it, torn by my own mutiny. A trail of blood behind me mimics the irreversible blood that stains my hands. I know that this is my end. When I lock eyes with an enemy soldier, time seems to stand still. In that brief moment, I see a flicker of acknowledgement. The roles could have easily been reversed. They left as quickly as they came and spared me the mercy of contemplating my final moments. As my energy gives out and I can no longer move any further, I collapse into the warmth of Mother Nature's embrace, wondering where it all went wrong. I have no family, no mourners, and no hands to place flowers on a makeshift grave. Bitterness rises as I remember that this isolation is of my own doing—fighting for an unforgivable cause that brought more harm than good. Yet, as snowflakes fall, I find solace in their quiet beauty. They offer me one last glimpse of purity as I slowly fade. My final comfort is knowing that I tried to make a difference, even if I was far too late.
