It is because you use your words, like steamrollers of death, to crush the small genuine glimmers of hope you see in people. You are the banner carrier for the seven riders of apocalypse; your childish eagerness spread like a twisted grin across your face as you ride. Small children screaming under the churning hooves your evil-spawned horse. Your eyes, shining with lust, through the red mist of innocent blood. Drunk on bitter contempt for anyone not like you, you have sacrificed your last shred of humanity for the satanic campaign of loathing you serve.