the Moth

Sad to be butterflies of the night,

nothing is in color, only shades below.

The moth in his fly,

Butterfly of the night, which of itself can not tell ..

Now comes,

his fate is already sealed,

color of ashes to immortalize,

body and wings,

They want to fly,

Notice she is mysterious, sad ..

A few days will explore,

You look at her fly, think again

and think again ..

She is happy in her swing,

time is limited,

destiny that does not tremble,

  continues to fly,

beautiful moth who teaches us,

the meaning of life.