Swiftly, flowing through air that breathes lovely,

Beautiful, calming waves of smooth wind, flies

A creation of nature dauntingly,

Patiently, seeking for a person's eye.

Nobody can see this mysterious

Creature. For some are too blind, and some think

They see, but are just a captious.

For it floats so speedy that gentle blink,

Will make wondrous thoughts to those who bare

Not believe. But see to those that do, don't

Believe that to see is to believe. Swear

On their lives, sweet lullabies call and wont

Cast bitter love and ghastly horror lies.

These lost creatures are Purple Butterflies.