Moving On

For the life of me, I’m not yet sure if I am indeed ready to move on. I suppose it is time, though somehow it is still unclear to me why I should move on. Am I not allowed my moment of grief? Perhaps that is where the answer lies. True, everything in this world is momentary. Even the rotten system that has humanity in its stranglehold is sure not to last. I simply cannot allow myself to linger in sorrow. No, I do not intend to forget. Somewhere in the deep recesses of my heart lies a bitter memory, the memory of facing a despicable foe and losing someone most dear in the process. Each day only reminds me of absence, for that which is broken shall never be whole once more. And yet, as I constantly remind myself, I simply must continue the journey forward. I raise my sword once more, no longer for myself alone, but for those left scarred from the battle. Thoughts of anger, of revenge, of bitterness can wait; no, they have to wait. They say that time heals all wounds. Perhaps, that may be true. As with all things in the future, I won’t know for certain unless I walk the road that lies before me. Straight ahead, I shall struggle with every step. I don’t know whether the responsibility I’m placing upon my shoulders is a burden I should be carrying. What I do know is that I must do this, whether I can or cannot. It was never a matter of capability, but a matter of duty. And though some part of me surely objects, I must not allow these negative thoughts to haunt me, because I know that if I let them, they will slowly strangle my spirit, crushing any hope that lies within. It is not an easy task, but I will move on.

Father, grant me the serenity
To accept the things I cannot change
The courage to change the things I can
And the wisdom to know the difference


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