He sat down . Lit his cigarette and inhaled deeply . "Do you realize that your writings, your paintings, your poetry , everything about you has become so depressing." He ranted on ...
"Come on , snap out of it , it is not all bad ...".
Meanwhile , a song was playing on the local radio station :
"There is death around me
I scream , no one hears me...
How can I sing when I have no voice
I want to sing for those who cannot sing
I want to sing for those who
have forgotten how to celebrate...
Who is it that wages war in the name of Man
and declares it in the name of God
when they sold God long ago.
Who has turned this earth to a desolate place
and keeps stabbing it till
the stabs reach the Soul ...
There are wounds ...
and the worst wounds are those of the Soul
I want to sing for the people
who have no one
I want to sing for the children
who were never children