My name isn't John.

John was done, he had nothing to live for.

Everything, around, was a greedy gray, and it tasted like dirt.

He knew there were others, but they'd soon be gone. The only thing he could give, he wanted them to have.

He also knew it took courage to leave, so off he went, into the forest with only the four batteries.

Today John was going to take some pictures.

Calmly, and peacefully, he gently turned over the hourglass to find his beauty, and his way home.