Two Roads

There are 

two roads

under the weight 

of war:

one paved in iron 

and blood,

brutality met 

with brutality,

fists clenched tight,

teeth bared 

against the 

darkness.

This path promises 

a chance…

a chance to change 

the world,

to break the cycle

of bloodshed 

by breaking 

the enemy,

though the cost 

is a soul 

worn thin,

a heart 

scarred 

deep.

Victory here 

is a fire,

destructive, consuming,

both light

and dark

at the same time.

But it opens a door,

a chance 

to rewrite 

what 

comes 

next.

The chance

is not always

taken.

The other road 

is quieter,

a loss carried 

in open arms,

hand in hand,

sharing the pain:

warm and cold

at the same

time.

Humanity intact 

but fragile,

offering mercy 

where 

none 

is 

asked.

Losing without 

the strength 

to change,

cracking 

beneath the weight

of what 

must 

be 

accepted.

Here, 

defeat is a 

chain;

binding the future 

tight,

closing the door 

before it 

can 

open.

Both paths 

may end 

the same:

in silence, 

in ruins,

where the 

dust 

settles on 

broken dreams,

and the price 

of war is paid

in blood 

or in mercy.

And the question lingers:

was winning 

without soul

better than 

losing with it?

Maybe there is a third,

a hidden

third path

that shapes the future

while keeping the

soul

intact.

Where the ending

is not 

in bloodshed.

Yet the ending

is not 

a loss.

Perhaps,

one day,

we can carve our own

future.