if ever here a river and then i found a little something to warm my heart. some kind of retribution. if i strike down those who stroke. i needn't fear no more. for those who strike will be stricken and rest forever more. with their bodies buried deep beneath the ashen soil. my will i strive to take and my life i can toil. so then without them there will be peace and quiet. where the boys can play and girls alike. but what if they like me, save an enduring voice? surely then they will strike the striker, me, what other choice could they have? no other passion may fuel their heart, for i struck out once more. must my strike be clean and swift like a surgeons deft manouevre? yet even then the scar remains and risk of infection incurs. such a cleanse is not a singlemost movement, a pawn to queen's knight six. but rather a complete obliteration of the human tumour would be to strike the very vessel the one that is sick. annihilation the only fix. to strike down those who strike would be to strike my very self. for as i lean to strike the swing must return. and deliver its final blow - man, woman, child and city - all would burn.  ¶ 12:18 PM 0 Comments

  There is some ablsoutely extremist views being manifested into action recently.

wow

it really gets me down.

so very de-motivating.  ¶ 12:12 PM 1 Comments