I was a butterfly,
in years past
Until you rid me of my wings,
cast shadows in the light that
shone from the sky,
confined me to a glass parcel:
Now, unable to beat my wings,
Unable to express my complete joy
in taking on a new day,
I'm being tortured.
Unable to free myself of this emotional
prison that now contains me,
and denied resuming the blissful
life of a butterfly I once had,
I'm suffering at the mercy of
sweet, sweet darkness.
Until the day that I find myself
and the strength to shatter the barrier,
I welcome fate with open arms
and a feral grin.
You sit upon your windowsill so high
and wonder if she still remembers you.
Transfixed, eyes fast upon the sky,
cruel are the pain and tears she put you through.
You sit lonely, unwilling to believe
that the love once cherished now is gone.
Forever shall she think of you and grieve.
Forever shall she mourn; the eternal dawn
will in all righteousness burn her soul.