To Catch a Bird
Description
Two types of humans exist in this world; the winged and the bare. They share many things in their appearances, but differ remarkably on the inside. Those who were born winged are pure, like snow. They know nothing of evil or darkness. Their minds are complex, yet filled by merely sweet thoughts. They soar in the sky at daytime and sleep in the clouds at night.
Those who were born bare, are simple, usually evil creatures with only one thing on their mind:
Catching a bird.
Foreword
There lived a winged boy, up in the sky. His hair was soft and golden, shining brightly in the sun. His eyes were the color of freshly brewed coffee, his figure delicate. Enormous wings would envelope his tiny form when he would slumber, to protect him from the night's cold. His smile, a stunning little curves of his rosy lips would never fade: he always had a reason to be happy, even when the skies were a deep grey in color, even when all he did throughout his day was stay at home, avoiding the cool touch of the winter.
When he was caught, his eyes still had that distant yet blissful sparkle in them.
Even when he was tossed into a cage and bound - cold metal was suddenly encircling his frail wrists, ropes were suddenly wound tightly around his legs as if they belonged there - that delicate smile remained on his lips.
For what reason? He didn't know. But as long as he was fine, he would always have a reason to smile.
cr.: poster: NEEDNOW @ Playful Graphics
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