~Anna~The elders prayed to the Moon Goddess with the rest of the pack silently praying on their own. Dressed in black from head to toe, we gathered around the graves of the brave men and women who fought for us. Their families wailed in their dirt-covered graves, clutching at the headstones that summarized their entire identity, the life they lived. Soon, plants of their choosing would be planted by their spouse, or their parents, or their children, whoever they have left behind.Today was particularly chilly. Mud dirtied our shoes and the atmosphere, melancholic.I watched all these unfold with a heavy heart, holding back the tears as I felt their pain – the pain of losing a loved one. They were warriors to me, as someone else to the rest – a son, a daughter, a mother, a father, a wife, a husband, a friend. They lived their lives with a different identity to each person in their life but died with the s
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