I cannot breath......

If life were fair, then I would not have seen the bullet wound on my younger brother's side resembling, Christ's on that fateful day. Or the ominous tale of a grotesque scar left by a  surgeon's knife as it trailed from stirnum to pelvis. I would not have seen his emaciated torso, evidence of new found religiosity or self imposed judgement. It was hard to see a mind so ravaged by life's cruelty that it made me understand how one succumbs to the hypocrisies of the likes of David “Moses” Berg,  W. D. Fard, Charles Taze Russell _at the promise of security and cleansing of a soiled soul. A mind empty of  memories of juvenile mirth but overcrowded with those of teenage deliquincy.
I believe even more now that it is true, having expectations of those to whom we are born is to volunteer for murder most foul. The cruelest kind where time seems to stand still, forever waiting for you to take your last breath saying: "I have had enough".

My soul is guttered. I cannot breath.