Warriors set off, away to fight in a distant land. It was long, ardous and painful, and little made it, during which, his heart and mind was alway home, and he found solace and calm in the memory.

It was strength in the face of danger, to have a place to return to, like a rallying point that gave them reason to fight. And before long, it was time to go home.

Yet home was no longer home.
When they return, what warmth was all gone.
And they, who were expecting a decent welcome, instead got a cold, almost cruel rejection.

Their home no longer wanted them.

Fate was cruel, they lamented.
They fought so hard, hoping to come back and rest in loving company.
Instead they felt caged and unwelcomed in their very own birthland.

Sometimes, for all our efforts and works, our contributions and improvements, we are rejected by those who benefited from what we did.

So, why bother?

A labour of love and pride, will never be repaid with similar love and pride.
All we get is a sense of alienation, that the world was not the same anymore.

Perhaps we should've fought eternally on those battlefields, fed by the memories of the past.
Or never fought at all, and lose it anyway.

---
Quite bloody emo

My parents were angry for no good reason.
Angry at each other, and maybe at me.

I see no peace in this.

Can't wait to live on my own.
----

Everyone says that I'll miss home once I'm away.
But you see, it's not that.

A house is not a home without love.
And mine is full with animosity and volatile truces.
It's a freaking warzone here, with offensives at any moment.

I feel like a refugee at times, wishing I can be far away from here, yet reluctant to do so.

You all can be all emo with your love issues, but it's not something that's close to heart.
Romantic love is still an issue that's only happens when you meet, and perhaps the missing part.

It's a place where there's little love. Just expectations, and responsibilities. Threats and 'offers'. Deals and agreements with little natural desire to just be caring and nice.

Maybe there is, but it's few and far between, like looking for a white lily, signifying peace, in a war torn wasteland.

Many of you look up to your siblings, parents, whereas for me, each passing day, I see more and more reasons why they should not be looked up to.

It's not I do not care. I wish all the best for them, and sincerely wish this place can be rid of this perpetual civil war.

But i'm tired of running for cover whenever the missiles and bombing runs start. I'm sick of the warning sirens blaring at every corner. Life isn't quite life when it feels like a game, where my room is my nuclear bunker, where I hide whenever the air smells of blood

I wish I have my own place on there.
Somewhere I go home.

Perhaps I should work out of country.
Somewhere far away, away from everyone I know.

Families.
Bleh.

Goes to show how much respect I have for such traditional bonds.
No doubt they are necessary, but I don't respect a person by a virtue of position.