Fluttering tru the meadows
on this gloomy,cold winter day.
Stopping on those bodies
laying lifeless on the ground.
Those breathless, decaying bodies that have no soul, and feel no more.
Feasting on the red substance
emanating from their pores.
Butterflies...
So pretty, and so deadly.
Hypnotizing the soul
devouring, little by little
the limbs of this rotting corpse.
Flying in the skies
they can smell the carrion, from hundreds of meters away
savoring their prey.
Playing in the emptiness
of colorful darkness
sorounded by a sea of companions, still feel the loneliness,
of their remaining life .
Invisible, colorful dreams
dying in less than two weeks .
Lipodopteras , feeding of those poor bastards, laying on the floor.
the ones,that have no more dreams ,the ones , that have no more souls.
Those minds ,trapped in the heads , of those who wish to be free , from the jail of this pathetic screwed up world.
Feeling trapped, in this multitude, where the time, second by second simply dies.
Beautiful , imperfect perfection
that is being called.
A butterfly....