on a midnight, pomp nightfall
she stood graciously in the light
so pale and faint,
she was a beautiful sight.

she holds a butterfly
with wings so pure and small.
it flew so loosely
into the purple nightfall.

she watched them fly
so beautifully it goes.
soon comes others
and swiftly they flow.

their wings so gentle
as they embrace the night sky.
she still watches them
as they enhance so high.

on this pomp nightfall,
she watches the butterflies soar.
and just like butterflies,
her heart is so pure.