His skin was smeared in pastel hues. Or was it really his demeanor ?
His eyes spoke of agony and pain, but then they had the sparkle.. a fully lit up zeal to living. 
He sat down in the dirt, and rolled over. He knew there was no trail to follow, there was no evidence he’d ever been here. Nobody owned him on the planet. 
He looked at me and gave out this smile; his thick, curly mane-locks shielding his widened cheeks. 
I looked down and up the skies, aghast and broken. He could be you. He could be me. He could be any one amongst us. 
My rage..my disillusionment.. And then Music was born. 
aeve features in - The Faces Of Falsehood