Alone in the desolate confines of an empty house, rage boiled within me like a tempest unleashed. The air crackled with tension, my every breath a seething reminder of the betrayal that festered in the hearts of those I had sought to save. As I stood amidst the debris of shattered hopes and broken dreams, the weight of my failure pressed down upon me like a crushing weight.
"You promised us freedom, justice," their voices accused, each syllable a venomous dagger aimed at the core of my resolve. How dare they? How dare they question my motives, my sacrifices, in their pitiful ignorance? Their ingratitude was a festering wound, gnawing at the very fabric of my soul.
With each step, the floorboards groaned beneath my feet, a mocking echo of the anguish that gnawed at my soul. The walls seemed to close in around me, suffocating me with the suffocating weight of my own inadequacy.
And then, like specters rising from the depths of despair, they appeared before me – the widows whose husbands had perished in the flames of rebellion. Their eyes burned with a fiery intensity, accusing me with every glance, their words like daggers aimed at the heart of my resolve.
But it was the children who stoked the flames of my fury, their innocent faces twisted with anger as they hurled stones at me with reckless abandon. All I had ever wanted was to offer them a glimmer of hope, to shield them from the horrors of the world outside their doorstep. Yet here they were, casting stones at me as if I were the villain in some twisted morality play.
As the stones pelted me, each impact fueling the fire of my rage, I felt something within me snap. How dare they judge me, condemn me for daring to fight for their freedom? Did they not understand the sacrifices I had made, the risks I had taken, to bring about change in a world steeped in darkness?
But as the fury welled up inside me, I realized the bitter truth – they were right. In this world, filled with corruption and cruelty, good intentions counted for nothing. They would never see the truth of my actions until I achieved success – until I proved myself worthy of their admiration.
The flames of my fury burned brighter with each passing moment, fueled by the bitterness of betrayal and the sting of injustice. The very air crackled with tension, as if waiting with bated breath for the storm to break. And when it did, it would be a tempest of unparalleled savagery, sweeping away all who dared to oppose me in its merciless wake.
And so, as I stood amidst the wreckage of my dreams, a new resolve hardened within me. If they wanted to cast me as the villain, then so be it. I would embrace the darkness within me, wield it like a weapon against those who sought to keep us enslaved.
For in a world where might made right, the only path to victory was through the crucible of anger and vengeance. And though the road ahead would be fraught with danger and despair, I would walk it with my head held high, my heart ablaze with the fires of fury.
For in the end, the only one I could truly rely on was myself. And if I wanted to change the world, I would need to become its master, no matter the cost.
[todays harvest: rage just rage].