I feel like there's a war outside, but the bullets are your words. The bombs are the ignorance, the smoke is lethal, but we are still fighting.
I'm trapped inside because of a virus. My peace has ceased, and now I can't think of a solution. My own problems are no more as big as what is going on outside. I'm mad now that I feel contradicted; it was easy to love from a distance. In the distance, there was hope but now we're standing face to face, and I still see myself in your eyes. But you see me as a monster.
I had a dream the other night, and I was shot in the leg. I didn't die and wake up; I had to suffer a pain created in my imagination. I felt the pain and still survived. I feel the pain now, and I am tired, but I won't give up. You all have breached my subconscious, the loss of hope has penetrated my mind, and now I don't know what to do.
I don't understand the reason we are in this war.
I'm not looking at you for your race. I tried to see you for the heart, and it's ugly. I now can't look at your face. I am begging, and I am desperate. I am not afraid to be vulnerable; to be weak. I know my Lord makes me strong. I am begging you to open your heart to love. Uncomfortably.
Relinquish control for the betterment of the world. For yourselves.
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