The On Going Tradgedy That Was Once Forgotten

My dear Friends,

I paint you a picture of enlightened disregard for life. One who takes the hatred of many to conceal it all into one, if not massive, but mortal being. It speaks of love through inverses of compassion. It destroys cities, countries, worlds, all for the sake of happiness; all for the sake of its own stability. Tell me, who giveth the beast this way of living? It giveth the life to itself. It taketh the breathe of the ones it detests and throws it into the desperate pits of damnation and cruelty. I give you nothing more than a frail shell. Yes. It. Is. Frail; weak. I know it has its past and has its present. However, its future is undeniably vague and ambiguous. Those who have foresight of this beings time line of misguided decisions based upon deterred pasts, make only the pain that is the life that isn't worth living. This piece is the darkest amongst any canvas that exists.
I now sculpt the castle--no--the kingdom in which it resides. It has only this home, this world to reside this day. Does another live there with him? No. Should it have company? Its home is vast, the castle, stone and cold, hard, lifeless black steel. Forged from the deepest of sorrows and lowliest of times; from the darkest of nights and the most righteous of embers. A citadel of impenetrable hatred and anguish. However, there lies one small hole...the weakest part of this evil fortress. What could dare penetrate such a place?The answer? Love. Love weakens the strongest of the strong, it shines purity upon that which remains corrupt. Corruption bleeds from that impalement. It corrodes the castle slowly until the wall begins to crumble; before the demonic black steel is abated to the very last bit of death that was forged from the soul it once was. How could such a place be so tame? Tell me, please enlighten me of the wrath that was wrought upon this playful soul and how it coul be darkened by something so pure. Not even I, the architect, can say.

Can this life be reborn, or merely built upon as was the city of Rome? Can this soul be reestablished as a free land, or shall it forever remain a hollow paradise; a bitter sweet end to a journey that has yet to begin?