They were huddled in a group, awaiting their execution although hoping, hoping against all hope, that there would be a miracle and their lives would remain theirs to keep. They whispered prayers, "Lord save us", hushed harsh tones of desperation. Then the door to their cage opened. There stood their persecutor. And silence reaffirmed its presence with a force that made everyone curse their stupidity for having broken its spell. Better no hope than broken hope. The children began to cry. <-- loaded language :P
Do you have the strength to undergo torture? Would you even call it strength? Or the useful ability to detach one's self from one's pain?
No comments:
Post a Comment