I pity those who have a voice but are not willing to use it.
The children's sleepless night is nothing but a hollowed mind,
drowned in fear and pain,
an endless sorrow that eats away,
all the same,
a tunnel with no end,
a room with no windows,
a senseless chaos,
a child without pictures,
a baby without bubbles,
or a mother,
a father,
a family,
love.
I do not pity these children because when they have nothing that is when they have the most hope, the strongest faith.
I pity only those who have a voice but are not willing to use it. They are the ones with the least hope, the weakest faith, but the most love.
