Sidelines

He had just done the impossible again.

It was amazing.

He still had the strength to go on. To fight.

I watch as he retells the tale, listen in awe.

Part of me yearns for it. To be as brave, as smart, and as loved as him.

But another part of me knows it is killing him.

I am the only one able to see past the mask. To see that he is slowly dying within.

And I don't want that.

Another year, another threat.

The darkness looms closer to our world.

And here he is again. Tired, beaten, trying not to let those tears break through his mask.

He is so brave for someone who is so young.

He has no other choice.

It's kill or be killed. He has realised this now. The last shred of innocence has been torn away from him. Never to return.

He is a child, doing a man's job.

This makes me furious. Who are we to condemn such a life to a child? That's when I realize, he is no longer a child. We have taken that away from him.

In some ways, we are no better than the dark.

We hide behind him, our saviour. We expect one man to rescue us all. We rest our fate in his hands. Our saviour's hands. He has no choice. And he knows it.

I am above such foolish illusions.

I know that I will die in this war. I know that if we continue to depend on, we will lose before we begin.

Yet I do nothing.

I watch from the sidelines, as I have for the many years. Neither light, nor dark.

I balance on the line dividing them.

Forever cursed to watch the world fall apart.