Little Black Butterfly

Little black butterfly, swirling in the air
Flickering, swirling, dancing in sulphuric despair.
Ashes falling softly
Carried by the wind
Dusting the garden gently
Gray with smoke and sin.
Payne's colored hot snow
Sugared me with ash,
Was it over? I didn’t know,
I started running and heard glass falling with a crash.
Sirens filling my ears,
I glance around the burning Rose.
As bombs blew, confirming fears
And gentle cooed the crows.
Mommy wont sing the nightingales tune...
And Daddy can’t rock me to sleep...
I lay down, illuminated by the moon.
My eyes tearing up, the pain is harsh and deep.
Oh little black butterfly, swirling in the air,
Falling, fading, dying in dark despair.

AN: Do not ask where this came from because I’m still not sure. I haven’t posted for a while so I though I might put this up. One of the poems, in the secret notebook that I will shoot if anyone ever bothers to open it, that I bother to post. Review if you liked it.