Alone I find my self a better person. How right might Darwin be when I look and see that might makes right. Quietly I sit and ponder how different I want to be. Not for me, what would it take to survive, this hideous, indifferent, self-serving pond made for me.
What beautiful creatures we can be, I see and cry. Actions gentle and generous the undeniable gift of the divine. The ones sacrificed for this, and no longer are, the ones that decided not to retaliate, extinct they have become, leaving only those selfish at heart.
To defend my self, to survive, would mean I react. Hatred, jealousy, vengeance, survival traits handed down, runs through my veins, apart of me ready to ignite, responding to the injustice, my short-sighted eyes see, finally becoming that who I wish not to be.
Quietly and alone I sit awaiting for nature to act and eliminate this gene. Unfit to survive a world created in the front-lines of battle, where sounds of plea are too quiet to be heard in the midst of noise of guns and screams, no doubt, of just and sincere wars.