The only painting that
Made the dream of us
Was the last of us
Through time and forth.
YOU ARE READING
The paintings of the moonlight and my dreams of butterflies
PoetryThe paintings of the dreams Where every color of the wings And the one who flies from the butterfly Of the moon and the wings of a fairytale ending.
The only painting of our dreams
The only painting that
Made the dream of us
Was the last of us
Through time and forth.
