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7/22/2025, 1:14:11 PM
>>532240960
Hope, though oft praised as a guiding light, is not without its shadows, for in its glow, the wicked find their stage.
It is a force so pure, so deeply craved, that it blinds those who yearn for change, leaving them vulnerable to illusion.
The cruel and cunning know this well; they cloak themselves in the language of promise, whispering dreams into desperate ears, only to twist those dreams into snares.
They prey not upon the weak, but upon the hopeful, those who dare to believe in better, who are willing to suffer for a brighter dawn. And so, hope becomes a tool, sharpened in the hands of deceivers, used not to uplift but to control. With smiles like saints and hearts black as pitch, these wolves shepherd flocks with words dipped in honey, leading them not to salvation, but to servitude.
In such hands, hope is not salvation, it is a weapon, two-edged and cold, gleaming not with promise, but with peril.
Hope, though oft praised as a guiding light, is not without its shadows, for in its glow, the wicked find their stage.
It is a force so pure, so deeply craved, that it blinds those who yearn for change, leaving them vulnerable to illusion.
The cruel and cunning know this well; they cloak themselves in the language of promise, whispering dreams into desperate ears, only to twist those dreams into snares.
They prey not upon the weak, but upon the hopeful, those who dare to believe in better, who are willing to suffer for a brighter dawn. And so, hope becomes a tool, sharpened in the hands of deceivers, used not to uplift but to control. With smiles like saints and hearts black as pitch, these wolves shepherd flocks with words dipped in honey, leading them not to salvation, but to servitude.
In such hands, hope is not salvation, it is a weapon, two-edged and cold, gleaming not with promise, but with peril.
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