A dream, an eagle glides effortlessly through the sky, in his flight there is magic, in his screams there is laughter.

There is a great beauty inside which he yearns to share, it’s his greatest desire.

But logical giants with arrows of cynicism, shoot the eagle down.

His blood runs red.

Dreams don’t just die, they are murdered.

A dream, a fawn frollocks joyously through a glade, he launches himself to precarious hieghts, only to land again, on sure, nimble feet.

There is a great beauty inside which he yearns to share, it’s his greatest desire.

But sensous wolves, with hypnotic eyes, lure the fawn within reach of their razor fangs.

His blood runs red.

Innocence isn’t just lost, it is torn away.

An old man wanders aimlessly through cold grey streets, his milky eyes, see nothing but ugliness, his soul has been battered into conformity.

He screams, “I had something beautiful to share, DAMN YOU ALL!” and falls, lifeless, to the ground.

His blood, running red, is lapped up by soulless zombies, as teardrops fill their haunted eyes.