I am scared but brave. I wonder which night is to be my last.
I hear cries of murderous pain.
I see endless suffering brought on by those who show no mercy.
I want to escape this horrible nightmare.
I am scared but brave.

I pretend that I am not afraid.
I feel a sense of hopelessness.
I touch the snow, as cold as the lifeless bodies around me.
I worry that I won’t survive.
I cry out to the Lord for help, for strength.
I am scared but brave.

I understand that I may not live.
I say a prayer knowing it won’t save me, for nothing can.
I hope for hope itself to find its way back to me.
I am scared but brave.

I always imagined a peaceful death.
I never could’ve imagined a death such as this; dragging on, causing me endless pain, endless misery.
I remember each day so vividly, although I wish that I didn’t.
I want to forget it all, the pain, the sadness, the suffering.
I’m proudest of my strength, I question the source that pushes me to keep going, to keep fighting, to keep living.
I am scared but brave.