Murder is impossible, at most you’re incurring bad karma, and generating bad blood, if anything you''ll clear an obstacle, but the spirit is undying, and dust is always building, is it worth it, to taint your soul, lord knows, that war in Israel, has been going on for eternities, every time I wake up here, the blood is just as bile, a problem present for the whole world to see, even Nelson Mandela made it out of jail, his life saved, but it’s like the rest of the world, is content to learn nothing, your father and mother watch, in the vast expanse of space, it''s the left and the right side, red and blue, touching, making love, acknowledging each other, as worms squirm, and the lake ripples in the rain...


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.