He was a child who only knows how to tear things apart, until he knows how to give birth to a creation. One day, when he suddenly found the joy of creating new things in the world, something which was never there before, universally unique, he grown to a fine boy. He cried in the joy of his first successful creation. It was his first cry. When he became a adult, he already created many things, but never cried again. Everything was perfect. There was no need to cry. But one day, when he found out his very first creation has been damaged. He cried again. It was his last cry. Because at that time he has already become quite old.