In his daydreams he still is the warrior he
once was. He feels the steel in his hand and
the strength he once had. Even the feather on
his head is there, which he is so proud of. It
was a reward for bravery back then. Was not
easy, almost took his life.
Nobody ever told him though that this – his –
world did not exist anymore. That his
fighting, his fears, his anxiety, screaming,
shouting and trembling was useless, as he
simply could not see anymore what was going
And in all that misery there was an elegance
and strength in him, which was magnificent.
And for the first time others could see what he
was besides having been a warrior. Through
all that useless fighting something tender
came to the surface. Something which made
people cry and wonder whether this had been
there all the time, just never had had the
chance to unfold.
Which made them angry. Very angry.