Are these stars frozen fireflies
And the Moon one of the many apple pies?
They say times never rhyme
And planets do rime.

There's nothing real onto the horizon,
Just a dark room and fake voidness.
Maybe the butterflies reach there,
For some stellar nectar of meteor dust

A hole to a whole new place
Of mystic silence and surreal paintings.
Maybe its all inside one tiny jar
And its always a fading sight.

Forever its a dazed maze
For every soul that searches
For everlasting questions and
Forever fireflies stay frozen.