Sea butterfly fly

I still wonder, that cold, rainy late-night, what I looked up and saw her, a beautiful butterfly.

I believe that somewhere, there is a force to lead a difficult speech I touched the mystery, or how I suddenly looked up from an unexpected angle, found her there.

She gently affixed to white walls, motionless, seems to exist thousand years, it seems to just come, it seems to always stay in my room, then Fantasy would like the next second away.

So beautiful, she was so beautiful! Inch of land, she was broad-minded United States, the United States was casual.

The beauty of her birth moved me - and countless house lights hovering in the rain, she chose to come to my little room, she came for me.

She, famously quiet, like the setting sun slowly sink her beauty, I believe, she is a melancholy, sea butterflies fly.

She stopped at the white walls have three days.

Entered the house every day after work, I first have to do is turn our gaze to the walls of her stay, she was in, I feel at ease.

The dead of night, I silently stared at her, I was afraid of her sudden departure, for fear that my soul burning devil, and she let me quiet.


Is in a rainy night, I came back from the outside and found the butterfly was gone, I searched through every hidden corner of the room, or no trace of her has left me.

I am sad melancholy but not surprised, troubled life has let me know: that to leave will leave that to come will come.

She left as her appearance, quiet and get some soul-stirring, stunning even a bit careless.

I can not see if she had pleased, have been sad, I can only imagine, in the illusions in comforting her over the sea of tragic and desolate.

I imagine that she tried to like secular women generally love me, hug me, kiss me, she tried to stop my depression and wither, but these, she knew she can not, she had to choose sadness over the windows of the gap, not from Yao audio.

How I hope she can once again fly over the sea, back to her starting place, perhaps where her companions, perhaps where her love of butterflies.

But I also fear how she once again flew over the sea, how fear of a nightmare in the evening, at sunset the tears of blood, she sadly haggard, sudden fall, the sea swallowed her fragile beauty ... ...

If I was a butterfly, I want to with it away, but if I were a butterfly, why would she leave me?

I'm just a past life as the butterfly man, I have my life's vulgar edge outstanding, I can only in a somber majesty of the evening, and pay homage to the end of time, Haikudanlan, miss a butterfly was flying over the sea.