Long, long ago,
There was a tale of a blue butterfly,
That live in a silvery cage,
Up at the cold attic,
Silhouetted against the wall,
Surrounded by eerie silent,
Lost in the unknown time.
It flapped its wings hopelessly,
Around the dusty cage,
Its magnificent colour getting paler and fader,
Under the screened window,
And its spirit slipped away,
Inch by inch into the thin air.
But I do not know,
The ending of this tale,
And only the blue butterfly,
And HE who know it to the very end.
i like it that i read it twice and came with so many scenarios.[she's still there in silvery cage] thanks for sharing.md
i love your poem mind if i ask? who is HE? hihihi huhu i wanna know the end of the tale huhuhuhuhu
the ending HE knows...the blue butterfly may also know about it...but only in the ending! a good write...good imagery, Lily...10
The blue butterfly is waiting for a way out. We too were like that, waiting to be out. now our dreams have cometrue. We have found our way to outer space.
We all become traped in time waiting for a way out, like the blue butterfly
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
don't we, as people, also fade if we are left to wither inside a cold attic without anybody to see our beauty....great piece.