When you roared at me, I was reminded of the lion I had silenced in my past.
I had put him in a box, stored away in a quiet room with a locked door.
But you let him out, and he was loud again. I felt small, voiceless.
Since then, I have become a lion tamer, and I will learn to tame you too.
God may have created man, but he also created Mother Nature, and may God have mercy on your soul if you feel her wrath.
You see, an apology simply won’t do.
Your words have no credit, no value.
You can smile.
Go ahead, act sincere.
It’s all just smoke and mirrors.
I won’t be fooled again.
You want my respect.
You’ll have to earn it.
It won’t be easy to get back.
I may be a rose, but don’t forget that they have thorns and sometimes the payment is blood.
I should thank you.
You stirred the embers into a vibrant and thriving fire. One whose coals are fed by the core of my being.
You reminded me that I am capable, and I can take you down.
I will not be made to think I am small ever again.
You soon will be just another box on my shelf that is labeled Conquered.
You too will soon be quiet.
