When we hear about power, we think of fame, wealth, rising to the top with a single lift of the hand, everyone falling down to their knees as if we're some sort of magician or wizard or some of royalty. But, that's not always case. They never see the other side...it is always about success, being loved, being number one and being a hero.
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Not everyone is as luckily to turn out as powerful as others, the weak have been that they will never survive in this cold and Putrid world we call home, that they are abnormal, unworthy and worst of all. A curse.
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The powerful ones are gifted with love and affection while the other side is abandoned, neglected, seen as monsters than human beings.
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With this tension between both sides...War is rising from the grounds, from the hearts that have darken day after night. Lying on the ground ashes that mean nothing to anyone, but ashes that love once stood and grew. Is there a chance that a single dash of love, a single rose pedal, could withdraw this war?
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