Brought into the world blessed with the killers disease, thoughts of violence would put his mind at ease. He wrote the words so long overdue, "If there was a god he wouldn't let me feel the way I do." If I could go back, I'd reach out my hand to rid the thoughts that plagued his mind. Who knows what could have been if his revenge came a different way. Years of anger and misplaced quarrels. All his actions were deemed immoral. He was the one who fired the shot, but who put the gun in his hands? Drowned in despair, no god would answer his prayers. Voices inside his head were all singing along, "This is where it all goes wrong." Horror teems where love is lost.