My voice calls like a voice crying in the wilderness.
It cries aloud; Yet no one hears it; No one responds to it; No one comes at its beckoning.
It cries aloud, "Come all ye that thirst and drink of the water of life
freely". Yet no one comes, though the land is filled with men dying of thirst.
Why do they not come when I call? Because many false voices and many mirages are in the breadth of the
land. So many are there so, that men doubt the true voice when it comes rapping
at the door.
They have lost their way. They have given up all hope.