PTSD

There is a God of war…

There is a God of peace…

He talks to me in both ways…

The last time I heard his voice he gave me an option to choose…

I decided to pick up the weapon of peace while my enemies picked up weapons of war.

While they fought on earth and opened up the gates of hell, I lived in eternal peace.

My army was clothed in golden armor with ships powered by the fuel of raging seas.

When my enemies denied my peace offering, and ripped up my diplomatic agreements, I took a beating, only to be strengthened by the blows. If I did not die, I would become stronger.

A voice then whispered to me that I had a win-win situation, for I had made the right choice.

In the process, I was shown no resistance when asked to free the innocent people affected by war. 

It was my choice not to fight…

It was my choice not to kill…

When the war was over, I heard the God of peace speak to me…

He said, “Your enemies have worn themselves out, now attack with your weapons of peace. Just like you, I gave them a choice, I am the God of all things, everything belongs to me. Put on your golden armor and do not be afraid. I am with you.”

I then picked up my instruments, books, and academic artillery and began to take back what was mine by right because I had done nothing wrong. 

I then freed the prisoners who did the same.

God owned the world and everything in the universe so in the end I made the right choice.

The crying stopped and the dust settled, peace was appreciated and never forgotten, the war was over.

War did nothing but plant seeds of human blood that later grew to feed the next generation.

I’d been cured.

PTSD