Where There's Life

They usurped it. The saying. The hordes of fanatics swarming into city after city declaring that life become the overriding belief and only source of hope. Fanatical, unending life in service to a single-minded horde. Tied with an undeniable devotion to bringing more life into service and death to all else. The hypocrisy of the horde lost on the devout. How can there be hope if one wrong turn leads into the clutches of their discordant song?   Fighting on the front lines breeds dispair as wave after wave of man and woman selflessly fling themselves at the pikes and shields arrayed against them. The lack of care for individual life cracked open and laid bare on those that fell. The hypcrisy of the horde. Knowing of the dissonance doesn't help, because battle lines still broke and even the best equiped soldiers faltered after hours and hours of unrelenting assault.   After surviving three routs, the true meaning of the saying comes into focus. When all those around you have been cut down and still you run. When the hands of those who declared themselves holy grasp for your heart and soul, but you continue to cut the hands off. What you thought was fear goes silent. The smallest flower, the simplest tune, or the gentle breeze can ignite a firestorm of desire to stand against them.   Because while you still stand, there is hope.