Here are the characters:

a GIRL hiking across the country

(a rescue mission; the price to pay: your innocence)

a BOY hoping to please his father

(doomed endeavor; you won’t get out alive)

a MAN who needs his family

(stopped fighting, stopped living; you need redemption)

a WOMAN who makes bombs

(in your heart, a child is crying; you can never comfort him)

Here are the villains:

a FATHER who’s forgotten his humanity

(look at you, loving your son too late)

a BROTHER who forgot the limits

(you stopped lying to yourself about the blood you’ve shed)

a MOTHER unknown of those she loves

(they look at you, and you ask, why do they see a monster?)

Here are the forgotten:

a BOY who loved too much
(your sister will come for you, but you will be too stubborn to listen)

a WIFE who couldn’t bear to lose his children
(you got a glimpse of your lost ones, and, finally, her love; perhaps that was enough)

Here’s what the past doesn’t say:

There are those who did wrong, and those who did as best they could
but the FUTURE will not tell if they succeeded.

Here’s how the story ends:

not in fireworks, or bloodshed,
no tears and no laughter,
no holy grace and no hellfire.

It ENDS as all stories do,
in a deafening silence

—  your story is a revolution; your revolution is not a story (l.d)

get to know me meme: [1/10] relationships: Charlie & Monroe (Revolution)
“Monroe’s deluded. I don’t care how many men he’s got, he’s not getting the Republic back. None of us are gonna be alive that long anyway. But until then, we stay standing, we keep fighting, and we do whatever it takes to win. I didn’t go for Monroe. I went for myself.” 

you think: “the world’s out to get me”
and truth is, you’re right, the world’s after you
it aches — wants needs screams — for your heart
you’ve filled it with such kindness
the world would like to tear it to pieces
spread your heart around until the world’s a little kinder
a little brighter

except that’s not how it works, your heart
was made so kind for only one other
they who touch your heart will find themselves
eaten alive by the thorns in your veins

but then; he dies.
your kindness’ bled out your eyes and behold
a garden of flowers for his grave

he dies. and your heart’s too big to handle the void
inverted, a negative of itself: hatred
deep and wild and hungry, it echoes the howling wolves

the world didn’t get the memo
it’s still out to get you and you’ve a mind to let them try
see who burns first:
the world or a wrathful sister?