through feathered pens inked with blood and a scarred soul of overflowing abysmal ideologies; there sits an obscured entity, scribbling metaphors and ironies in a crumpled paper of her chaos, seeking for something out of all nothings.
and here she u...
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where is justice?
could it be in the verdict of the lawmakers and the people of good virtue? could it be in the prayers of the innocent and the pleas of the victims? perhaps, could it be in the sordid hands of the devils masked inside an angelic persona?
what is justice?
the ideology and definition of justice was nullified as greed for money blinded the eyes of the ones in power. justice has morphed into something only the fortunate can afford—neglecting the ones below the pyramid and letting the ones above thrive.
it is quite ironic, isn't it? justice is almost as synonymous to its antonym that is injustice, the public servants who swore their life to serve the people are the ones who make the people serve in their stead, the forces who pledged to protect civilians are the ones who pulled the trigger of the gun for their own selfish reasons, and the lawmakers who uttered an oath to let the truth prevail are the ones who were silenced in exchange for money.
