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A Poem I Wrote

by DarkLove16

Damaged Butterflies

Butterflies rise from the lake, born of it through white wings.

The night comes at them like a brigand, but unknowingly they float through the air towards the luminescent moon.

To float far away from home, shall draw blood from their wings

rippling the water; changing what once was so clear to a dark red.

The butterflies are struck by the night and blinded by their own blood, falling deep into the red, to be revived forever more.

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