Man, always satisfying his external passions, has no compassion regarding the sovereignty of our land, devastating, polluting, annihilating. His only urge is to satisfy the emptiness of his soul, feeding it with all sorts of possessions and pleasures, little by little forgetting the search in his spirit for answers.
The fauna and flora die at his feet, dedicating their horns, nails, and bones to unending sexual gluttony. Thousands and thousands of little seahorses, tigers, and rhinoceroses disappear from the planet becoming powder and potions that man will later use to ingest and, as a result, feel manly, virile, or fertile psychologically.
These three blue horns represent nostalgia of the rhinoceros at the feet of man. They are the ghosts that circulate his bed after he, man, has proven his virile fortitude once again.