My Grey Butterfly - Bella

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
She was in need of me. I kept her under the sun and went to school. Upon returning back, I found her still and something stabbed in my heart. This writing is the revenge for her immortality . This is no fantasy but a real life incident.

Submitted: March 19, 2017

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Submitted: March 19, 2017



My Grey Butterfly- Bella

Carved on the window's net, 
There was she - 
Soiled, beautiful with the two wings set 
Silent and still, 
Without any thrill 
The portrait was she - 
Alive, yet dead in this earthly frame! 

With the zooming of iris, 
There was she 
Utterly gracious-the sun's gleam in her eyes, 
Calm and dull 
Desire to win in null 
The butterfly was she- 
Fluttering - yet the deadly fluttering! 

Yes, she is sitting there again, 
In the manuscript of my brain's library 
Fresh and awake 
For my love's sake 
She is there on the window's net- 
The blue spreading over her mini grey body 
She is calm and steady! 

I could lay her out once again 
Summer morning it was, 
And the butterfly was there, 
Still on window, net replaced by the sill, 
Broken desire outcasted the happiness, 
She was there not to live, rather to die! 

Over my palm was she, 
Irradiation was between me and she, 
The heat went into her- 
Yes, she shivered! 

The parted wings were now together, 
The journey of her life was like the broken feather, 
She was silent and still, 
Breathing heavily on that one metre hill. 
So beautiful was she- 
Brown, soiled -yet so colourful, 
And the colours soon faded into the gloomy world! 

The corners of my eyes noticed, 
The shadow of the two wings set, 
Not vertical, but painted out horizontally 
Silent and still, 
The breaths in nil, 
The portrait was she- 
Dead, yet alive in my pump's frame!

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