Incite
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WpMetadataReadComplete Fri, Nov 17, 2017<5 mins
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Poetry
One man said as he ran out of breath, "Gold doesn't make you wiser than death."
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#85
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I glared at him; every cell in my body was on fire with hate. Everything that he represented - a manipulated, cold, emotionless world - I wanted to end. Yet I couldn't because he was the only one that could get me what I had wanted for the past two years of my life. He was the only one that was cold enough to get the job done. What did that say about me?

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