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An empty canvas
Full of possibilities so full of life.
A desperate cry of plead
fades into the night.
What is an aesthetic butterfly without its wings?
A helpless creature with no where to go.
So glum and bitter
nothing to do but wait, patiently just wait.
As the skies olden, the trees emerge, and the earth revolves.

Suddenly awoken from the euphonious nightmare of everyday.
A new world is come to be.
What used to be merriment, now painful memories.
Nothing is the same, no matter how alive inside.
Somethings a missin'. Somethings a missin'.
What is an aesthetic butterfly without its wings?
A wise organism with no subsequent pain.





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