about butterflies

By tataromanova

butterfly flew in tears and so hopeless. its wings were sagging from old age and disease rooftops, but she still flew and flew, swallowing a wet sky over the city, long-dormant hopes. she coyly smiling at the moon, calling into unknown reaches ... butterfly desperately rushed to the heights, led crescent whisper: "Come to me, I'll warm ..." winged beauty does not believe - nothing more, but flew away from the bad language and oblique views of the earthly creatures. How could they understand it, always hovering in the clouds? and there is high is getting warmer and more akin to a distant glow, and behind only the pain and sorrow. flapping wings thin awakened ancient trees on the tops of the hills of gray, awoke and stars. they cried in butterfly dogonku: "Do not! moon cheat!", but she did not listen, but why? always cold, hard ground it is not adopted, all is said and done! Moon persistently, but gently continued: "Come to me, I need you ..." be necessary for someone like a butterfly more than anything else ... maybe so she flew even faster, giving the last celestial forces. stars, hearing the moon began to miss the butterfly for the delicate, colorful wings, begging her to stop. but she did not listen to small lights and continued on its rapid flight. and, behold, the last gasp, the last wave, so little to happiness! warm start absorb it, rushed in a silent dance, euphoria is stuck in my throat like a lump, she suddenly imagined Paradise! moon revealed clutches and proglatila beauty. blinded by the light, baked ice heat being immersed in a viscous dark side of the moon. fluttering wings, heart beat, froze faceless, tarry look divine creation, and suddenly it was gone - washed away the paint of the wings black, unfolded the delicate body - the moon is his tenacious paws got out soul trusting Butterflies ... one after another of its cells turned into dust as she does not disappear, leaving only pale wings. from beneath them seemed to flicker, it was her soul - the coagulated lump of light. Moon clutched it and began to greedily suck the life. life in which sorrow and tears, resentment and despair, frustration prevailed ... plenty nasytevshis villain barely let teplyaschiysya ball and put into the sky, beside himself. Thus was born a new cold star to twinkle above us at night and to instill in our hearts the hope that it does not remain a single drop ...

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about butterflies

Created: Aug 26, 2010

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