It’s said that all is fair in love and war. This is how we justify the extreme measures taken to win both. How we rationalize lesser loss for greater gain, the means for the coveted end. Both are costly. Both are unfair. Both tally and bury casualties. Both scorn at the notion that any price is too high to secure it. Would a man not give the substance of his household for love? Would a man not give his life for God and country? Seems so noble. So lofty. Reckless. Never quenched. Never drowned by the torrents that beat against it. It will not be deterred. The heart wants what the heart wants with jealous fervor that can scorch the planet naked. Wrap itself up with the firmament leaving not even a hem to hold, conquering the whole map of existence.
Lovers and fighters painting their faces with the hues of the earth. War paint to mask the fear, speak madness and resolve to every threat. War paint to hide in order to strike. War paint to muster courage to do the unthinkable but necessary. Love and war as close as kin, giving no care in the name of care.