Freedom War

The world war over human freedom

The silence dripped off the darkened buildings, filling the grey sky with dread and hatred at the lack of life. Tall buildings, once beautiful examples of our architecture are now sullen and broken. This shattered society is crumbling above my head and the moths have devoured all umbrellas. The rain doesn't fall, leaving the city dry and cracking beneath my feet as I stumble down the abandoned walkways. Alleyways, once marked by the scum that lurked in the darkness are now our safe haven. The open is the danger zone with the risk of being seen by the smog filled clouds. Keep close to the wreckage and maybe you won't be seen. Maybe you'll remain free in the world that misses societal restrictions. What were we fighting so hard to gain that our lives had to be sacrificed so willingly? Freedom was at stake, freedom is what was gained, but the grey void of our cities scream for the freedom that is now owned. Humans have their freedom but at what cost?

The war was gruelling and horrific. Everyone was torn apart and nothing was organized about it. Many in Canada grow up believing war is a distant thing, overseas, away from us. But when this war struck all humanity regardless of country, language or any other specifics that separate us as societies, it tore apart families and friends. The war became second nature. It entered our homes, our schools, our streets. The only ones who were safe were the children who didn't understand but somehow they were corrupted by their parents to follow one side or the other.

The two sides of human freedom. Shared freedom and individual freedom... as simply as it can be stated. There were choices in this war, their were options to how you as a human wished to have your freedom. What was your opinion on freedom would be the question asked with each waking day and no one could give the same answer before. But the war changed that. There were only two answers... depending on which side you were on. It doesn't matter what those sides were or what their ideals in detail are anymore... not when the war is over. Not when all those fighting are no longer left to argue. One side won... they got their freedom exactly how they wanted their freedom but at the cost of every other person's freedom on this planet.

Rebel groups were inevitable. In any war there are those that oppose it and suggest there is an alternate view rather than the black and white quality of the two sided war. That view would be the grey area between the spectrum. That's what I gaze at now. The grey side. The side of those who opposed, who didn't wish to have their freedom in the same manner of the clouds that now hover over the crumbling cities.

No good came of freedom... our civilization which supposedly confined our freedom, suffocated us to the point of submission... is now longed for in an everlasting state of nostalgia. We wander... those that are left... through our devoured society and offer the last bit of moisture from our eyes to restore the life that had been so quickly demolished.

Was I a rebel, or was I on the opposing side? Even if I remembered the answer to that question... my response is no longer of consequence. The world is exactly as it is. Grey, void, the barren bones left to decay and rot.