Shadows of the dreams

 At window I sensed an uninvited evening...her few rays kissed my forehead gently!  I glanced at her... Emily was silently gazing out of the window. She was looking at the autumn tree. May be she was dreaming... about night and mumbling silently. Her eyes were filled with dreams of eternity...yes I could see inside her but cannot touch her soul...it could be a cruel sin. I have heard  a myth that if you ever touch a butterfly ...it dies...you are not allowed to touch its soul. But I sensed her...her gentle whispers are for the evening. Those falling golden sheened autumn leaves are breathing in mystic scent of death along with her...

       Evening betrayed me...I felt painless fear...Evening has hungry, unsatisfied eyes of a priest in confession box. I wasn’t with her at her death...It was her last wish. I left with clouds in November. She waived her hand. I left hospital with fallen leaves and her poems. She died soon, had her salvation in autumn evening! Somebody had touched my butterfly......

       An autumn wind with passionate thrill rolled over my wounds...evening has passed silently and left a dead poet to live! I looked outside the window...Leaves were falling silently...a fearless pain. A compassionate twilight...a violent seductress!I lit a candle and opened her diary...

 “I had truth in his arms. But his dreams were too fierce...too lively, just like shadows of ancient ruins. I lived his poem for a while, now angels and fairies are dancing on my death on a soft tune of violin...a divine madness piercing my soul. I feel free from fear now...Church is near....”

    In the end she left nothing but the elegant death...two wings of a dead butterfly! A drop of life rolled over from my eyes on those dead wings. I know, Evening betrayed me......