Her child is a casualty of war.
His body was never sliced by fragmented shrapnel,
no, her child was ambushed on a different type of warfront.
The battle between feeling and logic,
pulled down by the weight of a heart,
weathered and torn by illness.
There was never any hope for salvation.

The boy surrenders.

White flag in hand,
he tries to find the strength within to wave it.

The angel of death comes too quickly.
The boy doesn’t mind.
With a sad smile on his face,
he makes his final decision.
Though the cost was high,
the boy has finally left the battlefield.