“I’ve been treading the winepress alone. No one was there to help me. Angrily, I stomped the grapes; raging, I trampled the people. Their blood spurted all over me— all my clothes were soaked with blood. I was set on vengeance. The time for redemption had arrived. I looked around for someone to help —no one. I couldn’t believe it —not one volunteer. So I went ahead and did it myself, fed and fueled by my rage. I trampled the people in my anger, crushed them under foot in my wrath, soaked the earth with their lifeblood.”
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