Butterfly Butterfly

nramweslll

a beautiful encounter, caterpillar into a beautiful butterfly. I have been naive to think that she will never be a beautiful butterfly, but I forget, the beautiful butterflies also announced the death.

crossroads, truck.

winter, no grass aroma, Zinfandel earth, the sun did not shine a strong light.

around four weeks, the city's buildings, standing tall, surrounded by streets carved a cross into the sky, clouds shrouded sky, a surge of loneliness felt.

in such a situation where a voice drifted down from afar, I was kind of hard to describe the strange psychological feelings of shock and grief my heart strong a piece of happiness to fall, fall to bottom of my heart sad Sound: Butterfly fly, but the sea.

It is a despair, a kind of helpless. I suddenly found that my hand was hastily passed in fleeting, so I think the fear is not life. I felt as if I pass each person with almost all sad, walking the streets in noisy, colorful neon signs, there is a sense of strange familiarity [link widoczny dla zalogowanych], such as the flow of the world alone.

butterfly fly, but the sea [link widoczny dla zalogowanych], the kind of dark green then, with a sad sense of beauty.

standing under the night sky, close your eyes; Epiphyllum reproduction, the fragrant leaves for Love; left fleeting, right Love.

me, after all too sad. Whether in the new city, or quiet villages also, which I always perceived the slightest sadness, hidden in between a soft vulnerable, and often show their grief beyond recognition.

pass it again and again, in the end the number of hidden in the heart of mourning.

twitching heart I have missed, tightly wrapped in the body, calm face, could not find any traces of, as if between the pass, it is no longer their own.

are in the crossroads, as if already in the horizon, sailed the seven seas, like a loose firework. Love of youth [link widoczny dla zalogowanych], from the hand of passage of time.

beautiful butterfly, the final flight but the sea; me, still sad the other end