11 APR 2017 AT 11:38

I saw those blue butterflies fluttering 
Around my white daisies 
and slowly with pin drop care caught 
them with my net. 

I then ripped out their colors, 
dropping them naked on the wet ground 
burned their wings till they flew ashes 
which I stitched again with a rusty needle. 

A touch of perfection glows as it’s 
framed lifeless and dump to the pink wall
catching all the whispers of silent admiration 
who read the words engrossed under it 
“Flight without a soul” with the 
sneer of a genius.

- Shoonya