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Lucciola's Lyrical Challenge. Gollum's Song by Emiliana Torrini.
According to UNICEF, 25 000 children die each day due to poverty. And they “die quietly in some of the poorest villages on earth, far removed from the scrutiny and the conscience of the world. Being meek and weak in life makes these dying multitudes even more invisible in death.”


Submitted:Dec 28, 2009    Reads: 107    Comments: 5    Likes: 5   


They came across the desert searching for the water promised by the Masozi. The scorching sun took aim at them and struck the child down. His mother pulled him up to his feet unable to carry her feeble son. My wretched, twisted limbs offered them no protection when they reached me. They sat on the hot, red earth below me and lay against my trunk. The child spoke of the Masozi, he asked his mother why he lied, why was there no water? No food? No shelter like they promised?
Were they going to die?
His mother pulled him to his breast. "That I do not know Akoko my son," a tear rolled down her scarred face and pooled on Akoko's head as she kissed his black hair.
The Sun fell from the sky and took with it all warmth and left the pitiful humans freezing below me. All light had faded but the Moon's hollowing glow. The blue illumination casted haunting shadows from my limbs, frightening poor Akoko. His mother cradled him as he cried until she too was weeping, and they continued to weep well into the night. The chilling winds howled around me and we all cried. We cried for the dying family. We cried because they were so misused, so mistreated, so alone. We cried because no one else would, because no one else knew of them and their troubles, because no one wanted to know. Was it ignorance that caused them to look away? Or was it greed?
Akoko lay in his mother's dead arms and blamed the Masozi, and then with one last loud cry, he died. The deafening silence consumed the night.
The sun rose again bringing with it the usual blinding light and the stinging heat, and now the fowl stench of death.
The wasn't a soul on Earth that would come looking for Akoko and his mother. No one to mourn them. No one to care.
According to UNICEF, 25,000 children die each day due to poverty. And they "die quietly in some of the poorest villages on earth, far removed from the scrutiny and the conscience of the world. Being meek and weak in life makes these dying multitudes even more invisible in death."
Where once was light, now darkness falls.
Where once was love, love is no more.
Don't say goodbye.
Don't say I didn't try.

These tears we cry,
Are falling rain
For all the lies you told us,
The hurt, the blame.
And we will weep
To be so alone.
We are lost,
We can never go home.

So in the end,
I'll be what I will be,
No loyal friend,
Was ever there for me.
Now we say goodbye,
We say you didn't try.

These tears you cry,
Have come too late.
Take back the lies,
The hurt, the blame.
And you will weep
When you face the end alone.
You are lost,
You can never go home.

You are lost, you can never go home...






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