love-new-artists

Religion, akin to a potent substance, in its measured doses, can cultivate tranquility, patience, tolerance, and understanding. It can instill a profound sense of inner peace, love, and harmony, resonating within the depths of one's being. Religion, much like a drug, can foster an internal state of well-being, eliciting feelings of jubilation, wonder, and awe that transcend the mundane. It has the power to inspire, motivate, and encourage, making one feel more connected, more integral to the grand mosaic of existence. Yet, when misused or consumed in excess, much like narcotics drugs, it can breed anger, resentment, and narrow-mindedness. It can distort the lens through which we view our fellow beings. When one becomes engulfed by the waves of religion, it can breed hatred, mistrust, and devaluation of their fellow humans. Misuse of religion, akin to substance abuse, can lead to delusional thinking. Sparking a descent into violence and cruelty. Under its

The gun was still grasped in his trembling hand. Shots had been fired, children were dying. In the classroom where they caused the pain. His startled face slowly emerged from the smoky haze. The boy had left his body and gazed down upon the haunting scene In his hands, the gun was an extension of his turmoil, A stark contrast to the stillness that surrounded him. The sound of gunfire had ceased, but its echoes Lingered in the dark corners of the room, Where dreams once danced in the minds of children, Now lay a haunting silence, a void where light had been. His face, a canvas of the past's torment, Emerged from the remnants of chaos that filled the air. The whispers that followed him spoke of a tragedy, A sister lost to the depths of a lake, Near the Spring house that stood as a silent sentinel. He collected masks, relics of a time forgotten, Each one a different character, a different day, A way to hide from a world he no longer understood. The laughter of children, once a