InTheir eyes begin to fill with hunger of killing.

They shouted, move toward, getting more and more closer.

They surrounded her in a mure circle.

She screamed, shouted, and cried.

She waved her arms to keep the attackers away.
She saw the darkness from villagers’ cold eyes.

The stones flew through the summer air.

The Blood painted the ground into red.
The woman is beaten to the land, without a single breathe of break.

Her eyes opened widely like they were still screaming

Her twisty dead body laid on the dust and the stones were still flying to her.
Her “friends” and homies smiled around.
In a beautiful and sunny day, Her approaching death is a comedy to everyone else.

there are hubbub of voices in the small village

As a reporter visiting the isolated town, I experienced the
it’s called lottery. whole lottery ritual ceremony. It is eerie as everyone's being
excited for literally the imminent death of a human being
Tessie is confident because she knows she won’t be drawn. they know After Ms.Hutchinson “luckly” got the lottery,
As the atmosphere rose, the crowd gazed breathlessly at the result. she began to regret and frantically screams that it was not
fair. In order to avoid her death, she was even willing to
The single lifeless piece of paper determining their fate sacrifice her own daughter and her entire family. Her cold-
eyed acquaintances who once treated her with amiability
now contributes to her death by throwing the rocks as if it is
an entertainment. I would say that she was a coward who
abandoned her family just for her own survival and a really
In a harmonious village where scorching breeze screeched, selfish person. However, she failed to run from her death
The hue of the black lottery benemoth towers, and get stoned by the other villagers.
Scrutinized as ancient ignorance gives birth to mania preached,
On whom spent their life conquered by the ancestral cleavers

From forth the raining rock,

Comes offerings sacrificed without a ritual,
Merrymaking that flows like blood bursted from the mad minded flock,
Upon the unfortunately lucky individual, Cohort of people roared in triumph,
Paying kudos,
May the ridicule be blessed! To mangled messiah.
As flesh rotten in soil along with the paper with mighty power. As the savior digracingly weathers on the ground,
Into streams of dust,
Delineating the amorphous meander to ultimate dogma,
That speaks the truth of karma,
Of no elixir to heal the dilapidated drama
Long live frenzy!