a butterfly filts pass her longing gaze, but quickly leaves her line of vision. once again she stares wistfully into a sea of darkness, into the dark sky which is so familiar to her sight. she sighs, and turns away from the drudgery. colour is what she wants. anything... but the constricting black box which holds her captive. with nothing but one small square promising freedom and life... but all she sees is the sky. where is the freedom and life? the colours and the joy? she sits in the corner once again, hugging her knees. in cold and in loneliness. will she ever see the world out there? she can only live to hope.
:7:37 PM: :sugah~plum