Sitting under a grey shaded sky, where I couldn't even touch skittle sized bubbles swirling around me. The stars are faded in the pearly aura, and the moon was never known; she isn't luminous as before.
I wake up to a day that smelled of ashes, and tiny blooms are awaited for a long time. I believed this hadn't happened before. Am I going to end? Or the earth has stuck in the middle of revolving? I ran to the lawns of a cliff to see the colour of butterflies, but they are scribbled in the pastel skies. I gazed at those evil eyes for long, and my heart said, stop chasing me for two, three and more times.
Why is it a dark day? I clambered every single hut to get a piece of serenity; I got tired and sobbed in the branches. And I see a little shack above a tree, where I saw a speck of lantern that reflects on my glued eyes. Like Tangle saved Flynn Rider, I snatched each one to feel the animated skies.
And it was a yacht of the woods; it sailed in the mud. We never came back; we continued the cruise to find a scarlet sky and how we ended up in unfavourable skies.
Paintings by Jasna Femin
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