Aches of betrayal

I mourn my inability to withdraw,

To back away from the pain inflicted by my children.

The damage has been done,

Healing must start and forgiveness must be given.

There is no other option.

Even as my children lie upon the ground,

Their homes destroyed by their siblings,

I must remember to quell my anger.

My body aches at the premature deaths,

But speaking my anger will lead to more.

And so I mourn.

I don't fight, not as I am destroyed,

Not as my trees are ripped from their roots,

Not my life burned away from me,

Not as I am struck deep in the side by a drill.

I won't fight. I no longer can.