Life in Conflict

The stillness of life,
Like a leaf without the wind,
Like a dead thought, a dead metaphor,
Like a dead body rotting on the ground,
Causes frustration, irritation.
It is the living death.

The same stillness, once desired,
Once craved for, is evacuated of all meaning.

The tumult, the rebelliousness,
The questioning, the challenge,
The war, the fight for liberty,
Acquires the ultimate meaning.
The process and not the end
Is my reality, our reality.

I crave for the stirrings of mind,
A further struggle, a new fight.
I want to live through the conflict.
The stillness is death; death it is.