Write an essay that uses the shakespearean language that is about the Rwandan genocide of 1994
Good morrow, gentle reader! I come to thee with a tale of woe and lament, of a tragedy that befell a land not so far from ours, in the fair country of Rwanda, in the year of our Lord 1994.

In that fateful year, brother did take up arms against brother, and the streets of Kigali did run red with the blood of the innocent. The children of Rwanda, born of the same soil and nourished by the same sun, did turn upon each other with fury and hatred, and did inflict upon each other wounds that shall never heal.

The cause of this lamentable event was rooted in a long history of tensions and divisions betwixt the two largest tribes of Rwanda, the Hutu and the Tutsi. And when a plane carrying the Rwandan president, a Hutu, was shot down, the passions of the people were inflamed, and the slaughter did commence.

In a matter of mere weeks, upwards of 800,000 Tutsi and moderate Hutu were brutally murdered, hacked to death with machetes and clubs, or shot down in the streets. The very fabric of Rwandan society was torn asunder, and the once peaceful land was plunged into a maelstrom of violence and chaos.

And yet, amidst the darkness, there were also glimmers of hope and compassion. Brave souls, both Rwandan and foreign, did risk life and limb to offer succor and refuge to those in peril, and many did find solace in the acts of kindness shown to them by strangers.

And so, though the events of that fateful year shall ever be remembered with sorrow and regret, let us also remember the courage and compassion of those who dared to stand against the tide of violence, and let us strive to emulate their noble example in our own lives.

In conclusion, I pray that we, as a species, may learn from the bitter lessons of the Rwandan genocide, and that we may never again witness such atrocities committed in the name of tribe or ethnicity. And I leave thee with these words of the bard, spoken by the wise and noble Portia in The Merchant of Venice:

The quality of mercy is not strain'd,
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest:
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes.

Fare thee well, gentle reader!