War

It was a miracle that I'd ever been born in the first place.
From the womb onward.
This culture and society has weighed down on me.
Tried it's best to conspire to destroy me.
This cold-grinding-machine.
A relentless vice grip.
The soulless cyborg-horde swarming.
Cloned and programmed to hunt down and eliminate.
Everything different, ingenious, and or progressive.
A bleak Orwellian reality.
Who needs horror stories or movies?
Open your eyes, we're living in horror.
Everyday a constant struggle.
A battle.
A WAR.
Perpetually attacked and bombarded.
Seemingly never-ending, malice and betrayal.
A bestial and savage existence.
Animal drive set on auto-pilot.
Through the perilous wilderness of this fragile dream.
Toiling and fighting.
Trying to stay afloat.
Confronting the hostility of a cruel-universe, gone mad.
Going for the jugular.
Adapting and changing to survive.
This short life has taken a toll on me.
Scarred, tattooed, and half-ruined.
My sword dulled and becoming blunt.

I've become: reclusive, distrustful, cynical, jaded, and misanthropic.
I've seen and felt too much.
I've been through and indulged in life too much.
I've taken too many chances and experienced too much.
I'm a veteran. A survivor. A lone warrior-poet.
I'm just taking life day to day. Learning from my mistakes.
Trying to retain hope and attempting to stay positive and optimistic.
Smiling and laughing through the good times and bad.
Continuing to trudge along...

by Bryan J. Shaver