Roses And Butterflies
Beautiful petals nephew fantasy.
Spluttering in silence.
My fragile soul tempted your little sister.
Dragged, I was carried away in your beautiful soft fantasy.
For a moment I looked.
Slowly I approach.
I do not feel awkward.
This is just hope for the past.
The more I flutter the wings, your sari juice sway.
The more I kicked.
The more power I hold my desire to suck your nectar.
But unspoiled, the wind blows hard.
I was in reality.
The deeper, the more uncontrollable.
The more this self loses meaning.
I realize the time that goes round in rotation.
Sun heat your branch, your leaves begin to wilt in a day.
I'm still struggling with my unmade wings.
Fly with head bowed.
Circle the flowered garden landscape.
Until mauve greeted the moon.
I still continue to circle, I want to try to embrace your beautiful calyx charming.
Yet I'm just an unmarked black butterfly, who flies with innocence hoping my flower will not wilt by the sun's arrogant bitch and beetle.
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