What's it like to die? I've always wondered. Is it a forever of blackness, are you reborn, do you live forever in heaven or hell? I don't know, and I don't want to find out soon.
Everyone says to always keep fighting for what you believe in, but it gets hard. There are times you want to lay down your weapons, take off your armor, and say shoot me. Truth is, even though it's hard we all need something to fight for; and there's always someone willing to fight back. But don't give up as you gain more enemies, because without enemies, what do we have left? Though we hate them, they give us new challenges that teach us to survive. They give us life. Ironic how they can give us life and take it away within seconds; but that's the thrill of it.
You see, I'm constantly fighting my enemies; and one of these days I will lose. But I stood up, I made a difference, I fought back until I died, and I can say that with my head held high.
For now, I'd like to thank my enemies, for giving me a new meaning of life.
A/N: I know this isn't a poem, but I found it in an old story and loved it, so here's a monologue!
P.R.
