And then there are those who read what I say and scour in fear, these are the bed weters. These are the jealous. These are the lonely. These are the wicked. These are the fire starters. These are the wind gamers. These are the clogged. These are the artificial. These are the controlled. These are the loveless. These are the ones who hurt the most. These are the ones who need prayer. These are the ones who forgiveness should be practiced on. These are the ones who need friends. These are the ones who haven’t family. These are the ones who can’t bear their own guilt. These are the ones who haven’t the strength to breath. These are the ones who don’t try. These are the ones who weren’t taught. These are the ones who were abused. These are the ones who have lost a friend to death. These are the ones who have never been loved. These are the ones in financial ruin. These are the ones who talk about despair. These are the ones who show their teeth to children. These are the ones who we help out of their holes. These are the ones who have been robbed. These are the ones who We, the soldiers, live for.

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