For a while there, times were tough. The ceaseless fatigue and mental fog, spreading doubts among the men, our failing bodies… It was hard to keep going. But we cracked on, legs heavy and souls wrung dry by Karma’s punitive hands.

Occasionally, we found respite. A bird’s song, trees swaying in the breeze, some gentle reminder of life. Even sometimes we were happy. But those moments would be buried beneath the storm, bringing with it the pain and fear and sleepless nights, the loneliness, sadness and malaise. 

Broken by defeat, we awaited the next onslaught in a clearing. Instead, the clouds parted and the sun shone through. The landscape was ravaged and our smattering of wanderers tired, but we had passed through. And while we carried with us the scars of our debts, that endless suffering somehow seemed so far away.

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