universal revolt

even the worm will turn.

Retaliation is a concept more ancient than civilisation itself. Before we built life we built vengeance. Regardless of the degree of humanism you hold in your bones, irrelevant of what fold of time you subsist in, all kinds possess a specific threshold.

The limit exceeds due to the hunger to attain equal power over another, To make consequence known. Driven by the need to be superior or to be known as such.

In order to acquire reciprocation we cross the line of humanity only to learn the price on the other end. In the case of revenge even the meekest most docile of all living creatures shall retaliate if pushed against itself, against the limit of endurance that it may possess; even the worm will turn.

The definition of morality is distorted according to self fulfilment; what feeds their hunger for superiority. Needlessly to say the right to exist is fabricated in to us with the right to remain human without being forced beyond this limit.

The soul enters a restless battlefield until justice is served, another soul enters the same war suffers the same consequences and spills equal amount of blood. Blood on one scale vengeance on the other, humanity holding the scale together. The ache propels us deeper into the madness of this war, an endless human cycle. Retaliation the common concept; the common weapon.

Like a marble that hits the cold pavement bounces back, intensified by cruelty multiplied with every new soul that enters the battlefield. It reeks of mourner’s blood activated by revenge, in need to seek equal power and misery over another, driven by humanity’s rage, even the worm drowning in the mourner’s blood will turn.

Even a fish in another ecosystem simultaneously consumes its kind the very kind that it pushes out of itself, digested in agony.

The prey becomes the predator. Even the worm will turn.

My endless love for you that runs in the blood binds me into humanity. It is the very revelation that makes me human, out of love for you I have forgiven myself and the world that unwinded the thread that fabricated our being. Most importantly I forgive you for making me turn against my blood and all that makes me human or perhaps it’s what they say so; I become a martyr of your love my last breath in your name to remind you I am yours before I am human.

Your martyr rests here with the quiet hope that this war never finds you.

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A martyr for love asks not for remembrance, only that the beloved lives unscarred.

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A messy draft. Thank you for reading :)