Little Lost Fairies

Longing. They hide behind the wisps of a silver painted brush.
Tragedy. Mourning trees of death that portrays the soul of a crimson wasp.
Malady. Leafs, mouldy, falling slowly through times dark void.
Fear. they tremble, tiny, lost, fearing the way forward, but blind to the way behind.
Evil. Wicked beasts stalk them, claws inseminating the earth with thier poison, through every step.
Wicked. Thier burning eyes, flaming, see all that is good, and hate it.
Lust. They wish for nothing than to end all that walks or breathes.
Death. The lost fairies fear it. The beasts crave it. The forest nurture it.

ALL IS LOST!!!