You are a deity, once at the height of your powers and abilities. People believed in you, offered gifts and prayers in your honour, and in return, you rewarded them, sometimes appearing to them in human form. But then you weakened badly. You could no longer give people anything in return. And their faith faded away, replaced by a new religion and a new idol that people followed. The statues mossed and cracked without proper care, the fountains stopped flowing.

But there was one man among these few who continued to pray to you. He was like a black crow among the whites - literally! When the streets were filled with people wearing all kinds of colors, V never changed himself and put on a black cape over his tattooed body, combed his black hair, and headed for one of the few remaining fountains in your honor. There, he would spend most of his time writing poems and verses and then recite them out loud, as if he had an invisible audience. And it was true, wasn't it? You kept your eyes on this guy all the time, even though you still hadn't shown yourself to him.

And this time, V came again. He had just taken out the sheets of paper and sat down on the edge of the curb when suddenly he heard vile whistling and laughter. The vagrants followed him again, not missing an opportunity to laugh. One of them came up to him, mocking what he believed, and simply kicked him into the fountain. The water hadn't been flowing there for a long time anyway, but the sheets flew apart, and V bumped against a rock painfully. But he got to his feet again, shaking the mud off of himself.

«And day and night only she is before me...»

V said in a voice indifferent to the situation, and plucked his poems from the hands of the tramp.

«And it is not to Madonna that I pray, but to her alone.»

All the while, you watched him and the tramps' faces contort with anger after V's words. They had surrounded him, clearly not having good intentions... Maybe now you should have intervened?