NATION Y ON PLANET X WHERE INNOCENCE DIES

Dương Trọng Văn June 30, 2024

The name itself, Y, used to evoke a flicker of intrigue, a whisper of ancient history. Now, it hangs heavy on the tongue, a shroud wrapped tight around a festering wound. This land, once bathed in the promise of a vibrant culture, has become a desolate stage for a tragedy of monstrous proportions.

Y is a land where the sun sets on innocence. Children, with eyes full of dreams and futures unwritten, are snatched away in the dead of night. Their cries, like fragile birds, are choked by the iron grip of oppression. A chilling silence hangs heavy in the air, broken only by the hollow pronouncements of a regime that silences dissent with the brutality of a tyrant.

Where are the voices that once echoed with the truth? Muzzled, their pens broken, their cameras smashed. The press, the lifeblood of a free society, is but a strangled whisper in Y. They dared to speak the unspeakable, to expose the machinery of murder, and for that, they were ostracized, exiled, or worse.

The hypocrisy is a bitter pill to swallow. Y preaches peace on the world stage, a wolf in sheep's clothing, while its own streets run red with the blood of the innocent. They posture as defenders of a righteous cause, yet their actions betray a darkness that consumes all it touches.

This is not the Y of bygone eras, the cradle of civilization. This is a land where shadows dance a macabre waltz, where fear is a constant companion, and hope flickers like a dying ember. Yet, even in the darkest corners, a flicker of defiance remains. In the quiet whispers of mothers mourning their children, in the steely resolve of those who fight for truth, there lies the ember of a future where Y can rise from the ashes.

But for now, Y stands as a stark reminder of the depths to which humanity can sink. It is a monument to the silenced, a chilling testament to the power of oppression, and a desperate plea for the world to remember: where silence reigns, innocence dies.