What could be more lonely than to be enveloped in silence to be the last of your people to speak your native tongue to have no way to pass on the wisdom of the elders to anticipate the promise of the children. This tragic fate is indeed the plight of someone somewhere roughly every two weeks.

Truth is not a matter of fact but a state of harmony with progress and hope. Enveloped only in its wings will we ever soar to the promise of our greater selves.