Flurries and Butterflies

The indigo complexion of an oaf 

her merry eyes gaze flowers falling off, 

Pretty hard to catch up her feelings  in a 

Weepy  day.

The loner  moans emptiness an adage in hay, 

Her wings spread a color 

Not many a spectrum parlor 

In we go but a minute she leaves 

Painting a sad face upon pinning her sleeves, 

Beautiful creatures singing to awake her love 

Please spare not her heart all above, 

She’s sick of love than wine, 

Pour it all out from the thorax to the abdomen, let merry intertwine.

Until then her wings impede 

Flying through the flurries broken pieces 

of hurt and sorrow for no price is paid.. 

The indigo complexion of an oaf, 

her merry eyes gaze the flowers falling off😔

Will she fly ever again, 

Only God knows wether death is her gain..😔