Today is Thursday at this time of the world; yesterday was Wednesday, the day after that Tuesday.
I am distressed, my brothers and sisters murdered for fighting for my rights; our rights. How can I sit comfortably and pretend nothing ever happened? What will tomorrow be like? How will I tell mama next door I survived, and her son didn't?
Yes, I am grateful to be alive, but where do I start. Should I retreat and mourn my brothers in an advent to save my self? They died for a purpose. They sang the national anthem when their government shot them in cold blood.
Peace and unity, freedom was my brother's last word. My sister was saying "to serve with heart and might" when the gun pierced her soul.
The blood of innocents shed, but the bleeding hearts of the living will continue to bleed and fight. "The labour of our heroes past shall never be in vain. I will keep on the fighting for the dream my brothers owned.
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