Do you not hear it?I hear it and pray that its sound would carry with less hindrance along bloody corridors to your shrivelled brain.
Do you not hear it?Not hear a hundred million sighs from they who have not legs,nor breasts,nor face that mirrors your proffered 'perfection'?
Do you not hear that cacophony of souls,as a hundred million 'imperfect'forms feel the piercing,searing gaze of a billion eyes? Do you not hear that cacophony of souls,as a hundred million 'miscreant'faces look searchingly into mirrors and contemplate disguise,with sighs?
Do you not hear that cacophony of souls,as a hundred million eyes look with anxiety and inner tears at the pages of your magazines and find themselves in despair as to how to build that bridge between 'ugliness'and 'beauty'?
That bridge,my bold marketeer,crosses the abyss that you and similarly-bold friends dug with the force of a mighty simpleton with your picks of stupidity.
You will never hear it,my bold marketeer,that cacophony of souls,for sadly,your pen is far stronger than your conscience,your greed far mightier than your sense of responsibility.
I hear it,though,that cacophony of souls,as it echoes from the walls of maze-like metropolis or screams from illuminated screen or brightly-coloured page.I hear the echo of that cacophony of souls and know to where it flies;its home is blood and tears.
