My heart once a butterfly
In the meadow of its soul
But times do set flames, on...
Its wings of burning gold!
All is but a purple wood
A black shimmering pool
All is but an autumn fall...
Outside pastoral trellis walls.
I climbed in total secret?!
Brambled deeper into thicket...
My hearts wings pumped, turbid
Pools of black—blood...
My heart was once a butterfly
In the meadow of its soul
But time has set to flames
Those wings of burning gold!
Should his moths light find me?
I shall not be—one bit, chintzy.
