In this dreary place of darkness, so dismal and cold, millions are gathered, handcuffed and tied up to the spot. They are followers and slaves benumbed by monotonous and idle talk. Hypocrisy is on the loose and stories from a long ago past resonate between these stonewalls of confinement, fabricated anecdotes that blur cognition and thoughts. How many times are voices forced to reiterate predetermined mindsets? While the enlightened and rich authorities rub their hands with glee and try to conceal their malicious schemes. But the downfall of bastions of dementia is inescapable once the blind begin to see again and their voices start to sing as one: "No one will correct your failures, no one will discharge you from your debts and no one will have mercy on your souls. No fucking fuss can camouflage the victims of hunger, disease and war."