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A single prick of a needle won't kill. they say. but what will happen if that same exact neddle was used to pierce your heart and stab it over and over again? won't it hurt? won't you bleed? won't you cry?
what if the one injecting you with the contents of poison was the person you trusted the most?
whose fault is it?
I, who let my guard down in this visibly cruel and tainted world?
or, they, who wore a mask and made the throe go away and made me feel as if human once again?
in all, there's God, who we can never see but believe. there's the Devil, who many feared because he brought hell to those who sinned. well, at least some fear going to hell because they know themselves are sinners.
in earth, there's humans, who ruled the land. there's nature and there's animals, imprisoned and suffered for the mankind's comfort. there's parasites, treated as disgrace to be born. there's germs who cannot be seen.
then there's Feelings. the lingering attachment of everything to anything. if worsened, they call it obsession and infliced them with disgust. but is it wrong if they, who felt and expressed their feelings, only desired to show and feel these feelings once again?
Bonten, lead by an even count of men. odd is tied through a ceremonial wedding of convenience.
