'If one death was enough to ignite destruction upon the land then hundreds of thousands must truly mean the world is in tragedy.

The tranquility of the wailing winds, the myriad of flowers gently swaying along to a carefully orchestrated facade, accompanied by the sun's grimacing gaze. I stand observing the landscape.

The transience of this morbid painting is attributed to the devastating tempest that occurred through our own hands.

I have repeated this over and over again.Yet to no avail.

This theatrical stage of "peace" is mocking me. It is nothing but a brazen display of power and greed from people who became corrupt and live in ease as they ruin others lives.

My sacrifice was in vain as nothing changed. I became a blade that eventually broke. With my own hands and morales I spilt blood of both innocent and guilty alike. I took the lives of many.

Thus with my own hands, I relinquish my rights of humanity onto you kind soul, as my repentance.'

I finished writing the letter before putting it away.

"Forgive me, for I have sinned".

I say aloud. Nothing else escapes my lips except a sigh. I bring the blade to my neck...