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Open Letter to Oppressors

All of the malice. All of the war and rage. All of the senseless hurt and pain. All of the hatred. Evil, that's what it is. Aren't you tired? You can't truly be living, truly be alive while you are swimming in blood that your hands have shed!

You can't be pleased with this war of hatred. Your acts have awaken the unleashed anger of peoples. They are holding on so strong to not become you, but that's what you want, isn't it? You enjoy turning humanity into miserable beings, like vampires you suck out the life of your prey. The site of their transformations gives you great pleasure. Perverts. Yeah, perverts. You have perverted lives. Everything you touch becomes turmoil, though you have illusions of gold. What you speak is death and not life.

When will enough be enough? Will it be when your legs get tired of swimming or when the bloodshed drained by your hands permanently stain? WHEN?! Inquiring minds would like to know!

You can't kill us all, but you're surely trying. Look at yourself in the mirror and honestly say you aren't a pitiful soul. You can't, can you? It's because you evoke pity. You flip the story as if you stood your ground while the ground is turning and nature is howling. Can your soul breath in the spiritual tension your actions have caused?

I pray you become a new creature before the clock stops. I pray you see each and every error of your ways. I pray that your wretched soul sees the heavy tears of whom you inflicted pain. My prayer is for you to get off the throne you thoughtfully, yet thoughtlessly handcrafted. My prayer is that the perceived insurmountable damage meets an undeniable miracle. My prayer is that the oppressed don't begin to resemble you.

Drops mic and walks away fed up... K.T.B.

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