During their short life they add a pinch of color to a world slowly covered in darkness, whether it’s humanity or nature itself. They fly around spreading happiness and capturing your attention for a couple of seconds. It doesn’t really matter if you are thinking about him or her, school, your problems or life in general, when you see a butterfly you enjoy it’s synchronized beating of wings, even if for a short amount of time.
Once in a while you’re amazed how beautiful their wings are and ask yourself how it is possible for a butterfly to be born out of a cocoon that doesn’t look very pleasant, and you find it kind of magical how something that odd can turn into something so lovely yet so fragile. They turn into colorful snowflakes that float and whirl majestically with their painted wings, sometimes chasing sunsets, other times waiting for the sun to rise so it will be warm enough for them to begin flitting from flower to flower.
One single touch on their wings that are soft like silk could bring their death, but why would you kill a floating beauty of nature that brings you so much joy? They die anyway when the clock is ticking. They just fall in the middle of nothing, unable to move since outside it’s cold they just lay there in their stillness until their last breath, then vanish forever and remain in our photographs and memories as the caterpillars, that morphed into short-lived creatures created to give pleasure to others.