Poor faun... lost in our grey, falls as fast as the day. While the forest vanishes away, he seats and wait, wait. “What can I do?” wonders the poor creature. Well, that was indeed a good question, for he has no longer the fisical strength of yesterday, just his soul, young and fresh like a baby borned today.
Now imagine, my dear friend, how he feels. His world, friends and family are ill, and he can’t help it, even with all the power of his will. His eyes watch the sunset, knowing there might not be a sunrise. Each time he winks, a friend turns to dust, gone with the wind.
“And what do I have to do with all that?” you ask. You may not know, but you can solve it all. You know what I mean, so I won’t write a whole text to convince. The faun... perhaps he nevers appears again, but that wouldn’t be in vain, for his words were: Grey people? Insane, if you ask me, but they know how to change, and that’s a hope I feed.
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