Monologue 119:54 Dec 01 2005
Times Read: 753
The following has been taken and adapted from Michael Ende's book, "The Neverending Story".
"Oh nothing can happen more than once, but all things must happen one day. Over hill and dale, over wood and stream. My dying voice will blow away.
If questions you would ask of me, then you must speak in poetry. For rhymeless talk that strikes my ear, I cannot hear, I cannot hear.
I thank you friend for your good will. I'm glad that you have come to me. I am Uyulala, the Voice of Silence, in this palace of deep mystery.
Never has anyone seen me. Never do I appear. Never will you see me, and yet I am here.
I do not appear in the brightness of sun as you appear, for my body is but sound that one can hear but never see. And this voice you're hearing now is all there is of me.
Once my song is ended, what happens to others soon or late, when their bodies pass away, will also be my fate. My life will last the time of this song, but that will not be long.
I'm only a song of lament, the wind will blow me away. But tell me why you were sent. What have you come to say?
Uyulala is answers. Answers on questions feed. So ask me what you've come to ask, for questions are her need.
The Childlike Empress is sick, and with her Fantascia will die. The Nothing will swollow this place. It will parish and so will I. We will vanish into the Nowhere and Nothing, as if we had never been. The Childlike Empress needs a new name, to make her well again.
Who can give the Childike Empress the new name that will make her well? Not you, not I, no elf, no djinn, can save us from the evil spell. For we are figures in a book, we do what we we're invented for. But we can fashoin nothing new, and cannot change from what we are. But there's a realm outside Fantascia, the Outer World is it's name. The people there are rich indeed, and not at all the same. Born of the world, the chidren of man, or Humans they're sometimes called,have had the gift of giving names. In every new age its they who gave the Childlike Empress life. For wondrous new names have the power to save. But now for many and many a day no human has visited Fantascia for they no longer know the way. For them it is near, but for us too far. They've forgotten how real we are, they don't believe in us anymore. Never can we go out to them, for theirs is the world of reality. But tell me, my hero, you so young. Will you remember what I have sung?
I've told you what was in my heart. So this is where our ways devide, where you and I must part.
The Nothing has come near, the Oracle is dying. No one again will hear, Uyulala laughing, sighing. You are the last to hear, my voice amung the columns, sounding far and near. Perhaps you will accomplish, what no one else has done. But to succeed, young hero, remember what I've sung.
Oh nothing can happen more than once, but all things must happen one day. Over hill and dale, over wood and stream. My dying voice will blow away."
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