What if I told you this isn’t real?
What if I told you it’s all wrong?
The love, the kindness, the hurt.
What if I told you nothing matters?
The climb, the blood, the hope.
Would you wince? Would you smile? Would you shrug?
What if I told you the truth? Would you raise a sword?
What if I pushed you so far into a corner, set your voice alight and watch you regurgitate ashen screams. Would you sit? Would you stand?
Would you slice through flesh or heal the wound?
What if I told you, you were born of hate?
Would you hurt?
I think you’d question
and make a rash decision
and without precision, you’d rationalize a few dark thoughts.
Isn’t it funny how these are just words?
Yet with a tone and a single finger I can mobilize all your fears.
I can justify murder, I can make sense of malice.
It’s all because I care.
What if I told you you were right?
But I only broke you out of love?
And all your theories were proved.
Would you step down without a fight?
No, I don’t think I would.
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