Like Scribbles On A Doodle Pad.

Is one life greater than another? Is it right for you to determine who lives or dies? How could you decide? Is it right to disregard even the seemingly smallest exit of life, or should we pay some acknowledgement to the absence of even the most minimal creatures. Who is to decide how to manipulate your feelings towards life and death? For some, death is a release, to others, life is the release. Tell me, who are you to say who lives and dies; pesticides of hatred flowing through the mighty ones whom tower over the weak. Ironically, it is the weak that hold the strength; they choose to resist, to fight back, to think. In the long battle, we forget our conscience somewhere along the way, we don't know it yet, however, we are the ones who suffer the most from it.