Brilliant image. So creative and imaginative - and extremely evocative. I was one of your 10s, and it's a shame this was not recognized appropriately through a beautiful score.
A bit odd, I'd like to know what you are trying to convey with this. It went right over my head without even rusting my thinning hair. Not the style I normally go for, but I have to still admit it is pretty good, even if it is not up my alley.
In the dark of night, in whitewashed dreams, came the tortured version of what she only knew as her inner self. That tortured creature battling demons and personal blockades that melted during the daylight, but came to horrific and detailed life in her sleep.
Wrapped in the bandages of her failures, she fought. Reaching for the paper butterflies of her future, struggling hard to wrap her fingers around the prize. She stretched out and fought, but never seemed to get much closer, those bright and fragile winged creatures always flitting just beyond fingertip reach.
What would become of her, if she ever grabbed her fractured vision of a colorful and beautiful future in those dreams? What would she do if the anxieties that clung to her in wrap and gauze were to ever fall away? What might happen if she were to awake, to find her fingers cupped, and one of those butterflies flitting inside, and to finally know hope and freedom?
In the dark of night, in whitewashed dreams, she found a power that hadn't been there before, a gleam in her one good eye, her body taut and ready and reached out with lightning quickness...
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