Reads: 366  | Likes: 1  | Shelves: 1  | Comments: 1

Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: The Imaginarium

In the wings of flutter,

Here my mind's in stutter,

Within these wicked wings,

Thus the butterfly stings.


Flutter but yet I stutter,

Of wicked things I mutter,

But here the ghastly butterfly sings,

with graceful horrid notes on its wings.


Tattoed by death on the back,

The skull once white is black,

Not butterfly but moth of death,

Flutter its wings for the coming last breath.


Hear my cry as I long to fly,

High to the heavens when I die,

Thus these deathly wings will take me,

To the path I've longed to see.

Submitted: March 18, 2019

© Copyright 2022 Reaper. All rights reserved.

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Very clever with the composition of this, Reaper. A really effective read.

Mon, March 18th, 2019 8:27pm


Thank you Hully. Glad you enjoyed it. Also Im getting back into writing again due to me being busy, so for that I am trying my best to finish Alice and start the second book. Thank you for being supportive.

Mon, March 18th, 2019 7:28pm

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