I am passionate about the work of liberation because oppression is in need for rest. She has done her work well, and now she needs to go to bed for awhile. The baby Liberation needs her time to grow, mature, and let her wings out, so she can fly. It is time for her to leave the nest, and make a name for herself in the world. She is needed to heal the sick, raise the dead and free the captives free. She is needed in our society of oppression. The aging woman is in need of restoration she uses to be called legalism and over time she turned into oppression in her bitterness and resentment, she decayed in her goals to protect the weak, and humble the strong. It is in her time of youth she fought many wars as a legality of ritual strength. In her decaying years, she has found bloodshed and war in her veins, and they have made her heart wretched and cold. She too needs redemption. The laws in her have fallen. The laws she stood for, the principles she died for a thousand times have changed her heart of warmth in coldness. She missed the mark of her duty as a law enforcer. She is ignored when she screams run, because no one cares about freedom. She find her babies left outside in the cold, on the streets, shaking in drugs, seizures out of their mind, hoping that death would take them away.
She cries in bitterness because this is not how it supposes to be, the ideas of the world, losing each working soul, who will work the system? If everyone is strung along in disease and decay, she weeps bitterly like Naomi, she finds her destruction, and in her decay, they call her Oppression because her intent to keep laws around her children neck was to keep them safe, but in slavery, the chain became heavy, and in pain, they went insane, and left her with their bones to rake every day, she was the only one to carry them in the graves. She had to taste their own blood because in hunger she allowed her laws to rule her, destroy her and in the end, oppression came after her. For oppression is blind, and like fire, she was consumed in her own vomit and in her own laws, she became a slave to her own wrath and captivity.
It is a sad story of this beautiful woman, once young, vibrant and courageous, she in her bitterness now allowed herself go just to find that oppression was the goblet that carried her away to a lonely place that stranded her on her island of deserts filled with bones, and crying tears that screams in her ears, why me? I walk away with this spirit crying in my ears that she would change her life if she would have had the duty “liberation.” She would have never accepted the job that the assignment of spreading the spirit of laws would cost her own life and her children’s life. She regret her first day at work because her last day at work showed only regret, bitterness and screams of gnashing teeth of her ghosts that haunts her daily of her mistakes to enslave them in their wretched place of torment and heat that consumes their existence of strange limitation and shortcomings in this opportunity she sold called the “Law.”
