I came in peace, with hope in my hand,
Seeking the truth, and a fairer land.
But the gates I knocked on opened with spite,
Met with the darkness instead of the light.

I asked for the truth — hypocrisy came,
A mask of honor, hiding the shame.
I never sought war, yet war found me still,
A freedom’s soldier against my will.

My skill and resolve, I thought were steel,
Yet in this world, they seemed too real—
Too pure, too soft for a place so cold,
Where innocence shatters and dreams grow old.

Yet I rose, and my enemy fell,
The clash of the swords, the final knell.
And what was my prize for the battles I braved?
A dagger behind me from hands I once saved.

I bled for the peace that others could keep,
Buried the pain where shadows sleep.
A fleeting calm in a restless land,
A peace it never could understand.

But maybe that spark was the birth of a flame,
A new world rising from ashes and shame.
And justice will call, as the tyrants dread,
For blood shall rain where the dictators bled.

And now, though weary, my name they still cry,
Another war dawns, another reason to try.
Chosen again, though the scars still remain,
To bear the burden, and fight once again.

Medellin | Day 304