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Literature Text
Butterflies
Butterflies are an age old symbol.
A symbol of rebirth and discovery.
The butterfly is never still
always flitting from flower to flower
and place to place.
Butterflies could symbolize anything
from luck and fortune
to life and death.
If I were a butterfly I would
want to be a monarch because
nobody messes with them and they
can just live their lives their way.
They are free to go where ever they
want and do what they please.
Butterflies are an age old symbol.
A symbol of rebirth and discovery.
The butterfly is never still
always flitting from flower to flower
and place to place.
Butterflies could symbolize anything
from luck and fortune
to life and death.
If I were a butterfly I would
want to be a monarch because
nobody messes with them and they
can just live their lives their way.
They are free to go where ever they
want and do what they please.
Literature
Time - e =
———
What I have is
Feelings for you
But for the first
Time, putting to
Paper feels wrong.
There’s a need to do
Something else.
Something more . . .
———
Written by Justin B Maltais (7U5T1N (https://www.deviantart.com/7u5t1n))
© 2016 Justin B Maltais (7U5T1N (https://www.deviantart.com/7u5t1n))
Notes: Please comment and share your thoughts. Views and +faves are great but I value feedback much more than stats!
———
Literature
Time
Dark grey clouds hung in the sky, lifeless, obscuring the sun, casting the world in perpetual twilight. The air spun listlessly, without purpose, meandering, lost. Lightning flashed in the distance, but it was dull, and arched lazily among the clouds; no thunder followed.
He knelt on his knees on the barren ground, head bowed with eyes closed, as if asleep. But he was not sleeping; how could he sleep? The pain of incredible loss and despair seared through him, leaving a cold ache that seeped into his bones. No, he did not sleep, could not sleep.
The last words of the prophecy slipped into his mind, unbidden:
When all has come to end,
a
Literature
A day never traveled by
Time used to be linear for us
Where Friday to Monday happened in a blink
Yet people twist their times and split away
Now I'm moving to Monday while they're on Friday
I was able to see them after the weekend
Say "Good morning" and "Goodbye"
Before they stepped into another existence
That I cannot venture, no matter my persistence
When I close my eyes
After many days and one final night
Will I be able to catch up?
Is waiting enough?
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