#daegulinenetwork

I know a place where stars come out to play every time the night falls and the moon awakens. I know a wanderer who used to come to that place to observe that iridescent beauty of the starry sky. he would come there every other night, searching for the answers to his lost dreams.

every time the darkness blinded him, he would hold onto that glimpse of hope, lingering on the path of faith to enlightenment. there were times when he’d lose himself and fall into the void of nothingness. whilst blindly searching for something that doesn’t exist, he’d drown deeper into the lake of lies people would mold for to save themselves from humanity. he would stumble and fall and slowly lose all of the hope he’d ever died for.

and so, despite all that hatred and intoxication, the lost boy would still keep on moving forward, but every time he’d get back up on his feet, a whip would hit his legs and make him fall onto his knees all over again, leaving him there on the ground, bleeding and screaming.

eventually, his voice would go out, like a nightingale incapable of forming any proper sound out of its throat as its voice would fade away from oversinging. but the nightingale wouldn’t give up so easily—it’d be patient and enduring of all the pain in order to get its ethereal voice back. and like the phoenix arising from the ashes, the nightingale was able to breathe again and the world could get another chance to hear its wonderful voice like in the old times.

the wanderer never buried his passion to let his hope burn. instead he’d let it grow. he came to realization that not all wanderers are lost. and so one day, spring came knocking on his door, and for the very first time in his life he experienced a caterpillar transforming into a breathtaking butterfly.

ever since then, the world had come to admire the butterfly’s exquisite beauty.