Meowmeowmeow21

so much sorrow. it fills me. the world is bleeding, and i am not the bandage. it hurts me to know this, and i shed tears on this earth that i cannot help. i cannot heal the very thing that gives me life, and i mourn this fact with every breath. why is peace so strange to us? why is death an option? our hands wring necks, yet we have nails, not claws; we are built to plant, not uproot. we are soft at heart— so why, in these days of torture, are we stone? where are the gaps in our barbed wire? where is the water in our world of fire? our leaders, their fortresses so impenetrable, sit on their thrones. on their white horses, safe from