It feels so unreal that we accept this to go on, the pain and suffering that so many reduce to nothing at all
I hold you responsible for the actions that you choose
You can't claim your innocence when you claim power over their lives
How can anyone choose d**h before life?
You turn your face away from the pictures
You don't want to see the horror in their eyes; you want to go on just like before
Just like always
Putting whatever bodypart you want in your mouth without the moral conflict
I hear their screams, they are endless
I see them in pain from the torture, dying in the murdermachine that you support without guilt or perspective
They once had a pulse, hearts that were beating
They felt, the saw and the lived
So beautiful and unique in there ways
How can you?