Leaning close, she speaks in a low voice heavy with sadness, indignation and purpose:
"I am not blindly loyal to anyone nor any one thing but I love my homeland and the dream of what it could be sustains me in my darkest hours. It is a love that does not mean unconditional deference and defence of all that is done in its name but rather one that urges me to act and see it made a better place. It is an urge to nurture and build, to safeguard and preserve what is good in the world and to honour those that we lost, standing unbroken in defiance of our cruel fate.
I no longer believe that the guiding hand of our scarred land has its best interest in mind, instead being shackled by fear, hesitation and inaction, subject to the whims of others. As they seem unable to bear the necessary burdens and make the difficult choices, I can no longer give them my fealty.
The leadership is not the nation, nor its people, but there is no nation without a people and the nation is not ruled by the consent of its people. As its people are not ruled by consent, the nation is subject to its leader who is in turn unfit. As such, I love my homeland but cannot be loyal to it as long as its leadership, of whom it is an extension, is in the wrong.
I would see my homeland prosper, even if its leadership would rather not uphold the promise of a new dawn, undeserving of trust and faith. The responsibility for prosperity thus relinquished to the hands of the able and willing, I hold it close to my heart in this raging storm. Does this make me the one turning my back on the High Home, abandoning it in its time of need? I do not believe so."
The sheer weight of the words and their meaning has her tone wavering, her voice cracking at the verge of tears and the exertion of articulating this difficult reality leaves her pale and shaking. She takes a sip from the nearby glass of water.
“O, promised day, delayed, chased by hunter’s moon. Crest of gold to catch its rays defaced, a bitter sheen and costly boon, come, coldest ray, come what may.”