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by eljaye
Rated: E · Other · Other · #1342826
The world through the heart of a butterfly.
(I don't remember where I came from)

I come from the birth of the world
I don't remember anything before the sun smiled on me then
as it rises, I rise also.

The warmth kisses my delicate wings
and I can fly.
I can fly wherever I want,
even into the depths of my dreams,
which start to disappear even as they come into existence.

Wind rustles the grass as I flutter
it tickles me and I tickle it.
For a moment I'm green.

The glint of the warmth holds promises within its wink
so I play in the breeze which rises from moisture.
While I play I'm blue.

When I pass in front of the sun,
does anyone notice the shadow?

Wings stinging in the cold.
My white siblings who can't fly
fall to the ground around me
continuously
as far as I can see in the crystal clear sky
endlessly...

I come from the birth of darkness the death of warmth
I don't remember anything before the moon smiled overhead
the blackness smothers me
but it gives me power and I can soar through it
it seeps into me my wings
we're acting as one.
I'm black streaked with moonlight

Tears from the eye
I cannot shed.
When my heart cries
moonbeams fall
drops of smiles
scattered into light of heartbreaking beauty.

When the gentle light
meets the endless dark and disintegrates
does anyone feel even for a fleeting moment a smile of sadness in their soul.

I'm luminescent and weightless,
I suck in the light and produce consuming darkness
my weight multiplies endlessly upon itself
existence eats away at eternity
suddenly I can feel it all
and then...

None of us really knew butterfly.
No-one knew where he came from.
No-one knew why he flew where he flew.
No-one knew why he flew what appeared to be erratically.
Through waving fields.
No-one knew why he suddenly, randomly changed direction to fly over the sparkling stream.
No-one knew why he flew so fluidly at night.
In fact, we only noticed him by accident.
We didn't understand but we wondered...
why he seemed carefree and happy,
and why we aren't.
© Copyright 2007 eljaye (eljaye at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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