I looked into his optmistic eyes, like infectious conjunctivitis he made me see the beautiful future that lay ahead. The epidemic which started with promising glances filled a generation full of placid youth with a yellow-green-red-blue odourless spirit. It was the rise of the dawn just after the dusk skipping the midnight.
The nation saw its awakening in the midst of the social downfall, but all of them who were born nearly at the same time, had to die some day, and all of them did without exception. We wait, again for an optimistic eye, an infection and an epidemic to shake our souls. Generation by generation, in our lazy afternoons we shall wait for the hero.
It will be so easy when he comes, the keys to morality, justice, freedom and progress are pressed against his palms. We believe. But since the fathers have already died and children are yet to get diseased, it would be wise to stay lazy and wait.