Looking through her eyes she can see that the world is a storm within itself.

The people are the lightning striking down those who are different.

Illuminating those of the minorities and the blemishes of their lives.

Targeting those who are flaccid and impecunious.

Striking them down with looks of disgust and malediction.


The cry of those who are persecuted can be heard rolling across the cloud covered sky.

To many it is just a mere sound, but to few, it is the sound of the broken hearted.

Loud and sincere they call from all corners.

Calling all who are willing to turn an ear and lend a hand.


The pain of those who’s hearts are shattered can be felt in a single rain drop.

With every drop on the face of those who hear, a spear derived from the pieces of those shattered can be felt in the hearts of the listeners.


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