Even on death's door I am still seeking redemption in evil when evil does not deserve forgiveness. People choose to be evil yet I find myself sympathising with the devil, trying to find a reason as to why. What hurt them? What pain did they suffer? Were they just born this way? Sadness. I had never known the full extent of its wrath until this very moment, as I lay here letting it consume my every breath, every good memory, filling it only with a dull ache. This dull ache that's tearing me apart. I've never experienced grief and it's not at all what I expected. Mourning for an apparition
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