Life is cruel.
It is lifted as though you are a mule.
You carry your own life with you and only you alone. Death is scary. Some people see this as a personal truth and some deny it but don't be scared. Because I have always cared. I ask you:
Can you keep living? For me and you? For the world? Does life go on? Yes, but does it really need to? Does it need you? The world needs everyone and in a moment it's never done. Hate is a personal hurt.
You feel it.
I feel it.
The world feels it.
Hate is stronger than love. Hate can be orated by love.
Hate can be felt. Love is weak. Hate is strong. Hate is wrong. Love is weak. But it is what we seek. It creates the meek.
