Birds scatter across the sky when war begins. They do not understand flags, revenge, or borders. They only know the feeling of needing to escape. Even the wind seems disturbed when the world burns.
War strips humanity down to instinct, fear, grief, and survival. The quiet need to feel safe again.
Maybe peace feels raw too. Not weak, but unfamiliar. The world has practiced conflict for so long that kindness can feel unnatural. People know how to destroy faster than they know how to heal.
And maybe that is the tragedy of humanity.
Maybe itās not peace that we want.
Maybe itās ecaep.
āØ į“Źøįµā±āæįµ į“įµįµ įµį¶ įµŹ°įµ ŹĖ”įµįµ įµįµŹ³įµįµ įµįµĖ¢ā±į¶ įµĖ”įµįµ