In the room of silence,
a condescending smile closes the open door.
Steady and undying cries pervade the corridors.
They are trying to get in.
The unwanted,
those of shattered hopes,
grope for the light of truth.
Deep in the recesses of time
the groans come:
'Feed us,
else we wither.'
Who will heed the open mouths
of ignorance,
of despair?
Will no one give them the answer they seek?
The room darkens,
but the voices do not fade with the light.
On and on they beg,
for nourishment,
for balance,
for Hope.

My night there is over.
I have heard their outcries.
And I will quench them.