Shackles of Atrophy

I refuse to make hate my national flag. I refuse to allow humans to suffer under the banner of the bled, maligned, and abused. I believe there is a calm we can all fit into, but it’s so damn hard to find right now. I believe there’s a song that longs to set us free, but its voice is trapped in shackles of atrophy. Who will be the first to undo the nooses tied into Mother Liberty’s tongue? How long will it take us to clear the warring air of this deathly smell of ash, human ash?

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