Fluttering like liquid ruby, their exquisite fragile wings
A lace of glimmers as they rush along, weaving tales, spinning
Amongst the trail of stars and abstract purple fleur-de-lis
Not at all lost, but wandering; uncurious, but wondering
These abstruse monarchial creatures set my soul in sole volition
When I’m torn between rebuilding hope and complete demolition
For who’d paint such a bold daring colour of danger and bloody ties
On the aesthetic likes of a delicate, innocent, little butterfly?
Standing beneath the skies dominated by a void of deepest onyx
With only scarlet specks to lead me on a life to desecrate and fix
These kaleidoscope of crimson butterflies will surely set me apart
I can only hope that one of them chances to land in my heart.