The Truth Is In The Prolouge. Death

I Can Write The Saddest Poem Of All Tonight. I Loved Her, And Sometimes She Loved Me Too.

Give Me Your Hand Out Of The Depths Sown By Your Sorrows.

For Now I Ask No More Than The Justice Of Eating.

My Feet Will Want To Walk To Where You Are Sleeping But I Shall Go On Living.

My Duty Moves Along With My Song: I Am I Am Not: That Is My Destiny. I Exist Not If I Do Not Attend To The Pain Of Those Who Suffer: They Are My Pains. For I Cannot Be Without Existing For All, For All Who Are Silent And Oppressed, I Come From The People And I Sing For Them: My Poetry Is Song And Punnishment.