InsaneJournal

I am weary. And I grieve for all those who have lost one dear to them, or who sit by the bedside of their loved ones and pray for healing that may or may not come. I have lost my son once, and I fear now that I must bear his death a second time. I do not know if I can bear such a thing.

Why must men always fight? What comes of it in the end but loss and despair?

All of my children, all of them, and my husband lost to me. And for what?

My heart is sore.