Rot

Nothing prepares you for the betrayal of those once trusted and respected. I often wonder how vile and petty people can be, and time and again I am rewarded with examples—even from those considered untouchable when it comes to trust.

They roam the world cloaked in masks of piety. They pray five times a day. But it is all theater, a facade to hide what festers inside: a sewer of pus and bile.

Everyone has dark impulses. That is human. But evolved beings, guided by intellect, morality, and faith, learn to control them. These people do not. They refine their impulses into intentions. They plan, they connive, they act with malice. They are a rare breed that should never have been allowed to spread their poison further.

There are no words strong enough to capture my contempt. Their very existence is loathsome, and everything they touch is tainted. They are a cancer eating through the fabric of morality. And like every cancer, every tumor, they must be cut out so the body can survive.

I used to hear the words Asteen ka saanp, but I never truly understood them until your ugly face slithered out from behind the mask. I hate you. I hate the fact that you breathe. I hate the sound of your voice. I hate the way you pretend to be something you’ll never be. You are nothing but a stain that should have been wiped clean the day you were born.

Don’t think your mask fools anyone anymore. You’re seen for what you are: a lying, backstabbing, worthless piece of shit hiding behind religion like a coward. You can kneel a thousand times a day, you can bow until your forehead bleeds, and it still won’t change what you are — rotten to the core.

Your time will come. And when it does, no one will mourn you. No one will miss you. You’ll be erased, and the world will breathe cleaner air without you in it.

I place it all in the hands of the Almighty. His justice will not be delayed.