The mighty ones spoke. Inscrutable they were - so mighty. With the voice, which vibrations caused floods and eruptions of volcanoes, they told and guided. People listened. Harked. Revered. Then people tried to echo the mighty ones - they realized that it wouldn't be perfect, but tried to imitate. Sometimes it worked out well. And five of them thought: "Let us strive even better, so that our voice becomes like that of the mighty ones". And fifty thousand thought: "We are doing great!" And the fifty thousand drowned those five. Then they forgot about the mighty ones - so intently they looked at themselves, so intently listened to themselves. Then they forgot about imitation as well - considered the mighty ones a lie, decided to bow to the voice that got petty: shallowness instead of floods, and only hatred erupted. Why, why do they need the voice?
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