the hand chooses release.
the blade,
once your name,
now just cold,
heavy metal.
the mind's sharpest edge,
the story of "us" and "them."
let that fiction fall.
the shield was heavier,
the weight of a defended self.
put that down as well.

victory and defeat,
twin ghosts that haunt the same house.
stop feeding them both.
the war you thought was,
was just a thought you were having.
a thought you can drop.
the island needs fighters.
be the one who stops fighting.
that is the transgression.

they will call you broken,
for choosing a different peace.
a beautiful shattering.
no enemy stands
in the space of a held breath.
only the still air.
the clock ticks,
not a countdown,
but a heartbeat.
the only war
is to miss this moment.

your only weapon now,
the unarmed,
open presence
that disarms the world.
the final surrender
is not to them,
but to what is.
a profound victory.
the sword is now gone.
real?
imagined?
it doesn't matter.
what is left is you.