The Arching Butterfly.

oh fly away home
to your life on the moon.
there you can roam
and I'll be there soon

the devil locked her in her room and now she sleeps alone.
for why would robbers take the stone
if not for what is shown.

the butterflew straight to the moon
and shot the arrow last.
it tumbled quick into the chest
and sunk into her heart.

oh blood, oh boy, what murder hast to murderer done.
but bleed out a riper soul.

to laugh at this, her lonely heart
where in burrowed a hole.
to chipper was the feeling,
to boastful was the woe
that now the hero holds the key
where no man choose to go.

where in her mind she has the quest to wither in her home.
the butterfly has broken out.
and now her woes be sown.

across the world the issues glide.
like papers in a gust.
and with letters set aside.
redemption be it just?

oh sever the ties between the whim of latter poetry
and break the bonds to the routine
with perfect symmetry.

cut not the string that binds the flame
but cluster up its ends.
cause with the sorrow shut, it will remain the same.
to swiftly make amends.
and never pass the blame.