Dark Butterfly

A fog so thick

You can’t see your thoughts

The person you once thought of as self

Starts to be pulled into the

Pitch black that was once

Your working mind.


Doubt begins to replace


Frustration replaces


Happiness becomes


And bravery becomes



Wave after wave of

Pungent froth forces its assault

Until every trace of


Is erased.


There are legends,

A myth passed on,

Of some wondrous few

That refused to be victims and

fought through to the other side.

The story they tell is

To know the maze within the


It is the acceptance of a

Journey back to the center,

To find a way through

The ominous veil

Means a search greater

Than that for the

Fountain of youth.


These brave and few, though

Have nothing but a dim guiding light,

No map exists to share.

Knowledge of a path is no

Knowledge at all.

What is for one

Can make others fall.

Each journey must be owned,

Each flight must be selfish,

For each butterfly is unique.


A terrifying choice must be made;

To remain in the depths and

Seek no path of change

Is absolute death of self.


To begin a voyage with a

Long leap into the hands of

The butterfly to tame it

Is hope.



~By Brittnie Faulkner


Keep Writing




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