‘The true truth’

It's as if all individuals have built a cage for themselves, locking life outside, not wanting a version of that darkness for themselves. Perhaps you fear that your life will be entangled with some of that darkness, thus living miserably. But like you, although I built that cage, but it's transparent. I see through it the truth of humanity, isn't it painful? Those scenes hurt me. But what pains me more is the unknown buried under the rubble of secrecy and law, buried by the higher hands that hold the authority in the shape of the universe. What's hidden is greater, believe it or not, what's hidden is greater than the greatest. There are bones not buried under the soil, there are mouths that didn't utter their last words, there are invisible restraints over our mouths. Restraints that taught us silence and forced us to live a silent life, with no right for us, but an obligation on us to protect those who won't shed a tear upon our death. Those are the real monsters, not classified throughout history as monsters, not as serial killers, not as savages driven by their desires, not as mentally disturbed psychopaths. Those are the ones ruling the world behind the curtain of humanity, charitable donations, worldly contributions, stardom. They celebrate behind those curtains above graves of half the world, hungry, dead, victims. They celebrate their sins they built a paradise for their crimes. They mock humans who were nothing but blood and bones like their bodies, the minority being humans, and the majority being them. Those are the ones extending their hands before the whole world with some gifts they stole before our demise, we accept them as evidence of their humanity, applaud them, sing patriotic songs for them, adorn homes with their pictures, their flags color the streets. Our thirty rights were a picture inside a frame, rotting at the edges, covered in dust, unreadable, unremembered, perhaps one of the gifts they stole before our death. They are those who wrote rights for themselves, built the world as a tent for their demands, a paradise for them and misery for us, a cup of wine for them, and a cup of sorrow for us. We dig mines and buy from them a pit we've dug for ourselves and that is the gold for them and the grave for us.