The surrounding nature will be very beautiful if accompanied by flowers in the garden, and a beautiful butterfly decorates the beautiful and pretty flower, adding to the perfection of this nature to be even more perfect.
The butterfly has become you
its wings become me in silence
witnessing from nothing to nothing
like your coming to be your going
the heartbeat accompanies it
the dance of time that tiptoes
slowly your face becomes a deception
if believing is just a way of remembering
doubt is a way of forgetting
your image burns to ashes
scattered in the lake of silence
where I am where
Looking at you with two hearts, adds to the touching silence. The pain that remains, the worry that spreads, restlessness until it burns the supply of silence.
Poor butterfly, singing in a hesitant mood, dancing when one of its wings feels sore. Not a dagger stab, not the sharpness of a thorny stalk, but the smile of a lover who is now gone.
If silence can be replaced, if pain can be treated, will the medicine for longing be available in the evening.
The butterfly, the silent beautifier, hides its tears in a pile of daggers, sings a song about the beauty of love, while it itself is struggling with sadness.
Until dusk approaches, when the creatures of the earth are knitting dreams, the butterfly wipes away the clear tears.