The war is over.
The blood on my sword went dry.
A metallic smell.
The scars on my body were brutal.
My legs were not working like how it use to be.
Everything was aching.
The burn of my wounds became stronger.
I could not walk any further.
Blood was still oozing from my arm.
My visions were burly.
The sight of blood makes nauseate.
My time has come.
I lost everything.
The people who I called family were no where to be seen.
The enemies blood were splattered everywhere.
They say with each battle they become stronger
but I became weaker.
I took all my weapons I stashed in my amour
and left it at the battle field.
With each step I took
parts of me was gone.
It was my call.
I could just stop
but I did not.
I continued to walk until I reached my limit
and then I stopped.