I curse the pen that writes their way,
Oda’s hand, I spite today.
For Zoro’s “W” feels unfair,
And Rayleigh too—why place it there?
A hero’s shine, a hollow crown,
The balance tips, the legends drown.
If fate were just, I’d tear the page,
And lock that bias in a cage.
So hear me shout, with spite I burn,
My hate for Oda shall not turn.