Butterfly away

Butterfly away.



The times that came

have gone.

The moonbeams

that illuminate the unknown treasured land

transform to shades of dark grey.



The Sun still warms,

My back enjoying the caress of its rays.

I will not be coming back.

The door closes and the fresh air runs

fast across my face.



Not really any questions for you to answer.

I do ask myself, what now? what do you want to do now?

I know your riposte,

It’s my life; I take my own footsteps without holding

your hand or wanting guidance for the way.



So please excuse me.

For you were the branch,

and I was the pupae,

who turned into the butterfly.



And flew away………..