It could never be expressed in words, the way they felt. It was just one of those things that held a message so profound, held such a pure state of truth, that when revealed there was absolutely nothing. It's worth and truth could not be found through simple analysis and the unraveling of layers of emotion. What gave it truth and meaning was the emotion; the burden of some kind of wordless knowledge that could only come through what was done.
What was done?
They weren't quite sure. Some called it war. But in reality it was so much more than that. It was some sort of realization- a new awareness. They had somehow crossed over into another place and left the realm of the living. Yes, they still had their pulses, their limbs, their brains- they were perfectly alive by physical standards. And yet somehow they had experienced death; or maybe they were experiencing life for the first time. Either way they couldn't tell.
A friend of mine once said, or I should say just an acquaintance, that sometimes you can't tell the difference between reality and a dream. You honestly can't tell what is real anymore; and if you think about it enough you begin to realize: what filthy-stink difference does it make anyway?
A/N: Dib's POV. His "acquaintance" would be Zim. And basically he's talking about war. Between Irk and Earth? You decide.