“Kill those harmful butterflies in your heart, before it kill you.”

Paint your scars with the ink of hope.

Embrace those storms that lead you to your waves of dreams.

follow the map of your soul even amidst all changes.

Allow your heart to paint a hopeful sky of miracles.

Some thunders are meant to mould your heart into art.

Those gun shots may take their home and wealth, but can’t change their heart.

Even the moon adore the way your brave heart beats.

Scars are lessons which reveal your true way.

Incomplete phases are still attractive, so do your brave heart.

Oh darling, melt your own soul with flames of self love.

Accept the storm before you expect the rainbow.

Be a calm wave in your ocean of chaos.

Plant seeds of self love in the soil of your heart.

An hopeful soul is an art of miracles.

Be a firefly in the world of fake butterflies.

Oh darling, grab a bit of courage to turn your scars into art.

What a caterpillar calls the end of the world we call a butterfly.

Butterfly growth from caterpillar, the time has gone, thing change & good thing will happen. 

I just woke up and found a large butterfly on me. When did that happen?

We are like butterflies who flutter for a day and think it is forever.

What the caterpillar calls the end, the rest of the world calls a butterfly.

The caterpillar does all the work, but the butterfly gets all the publicity.

Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee.

We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty.