YOUR TERRORIST
By: Ali Alizadeh
You call me a barbarian.
I call you master.
You don't speak my language.
My words
noise in your ears; my poems
meaningless melodies.
Your poems
masterpieces of literature.
Your clothes
constitute fashion; your homes
architecture.
My house
the hovel your tanks leveled;
my clothes
rags. My beliefs
crushed by your technology
because I'm a barbarian.
Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!
Creation is hard, cheer me up! VOTE for me!
Have some idea about my story? Comment it and let me know.
UP NEXT: CHAPTER 174: Facing Some Terrorist in the Middle of the Predator-Prey Lessons (Part 3)