Silence in the draw of her soft wings,
Passing eyes pick away at her mystery,
Years of examining her paths and patterns,
Will still never be enough to guess where she may next land to rest,

Silence in the crack of her gentle heart,
How it breaks ever so slightly with each swing of the pendulum,
Her screams cannot be heard over the roaring engine of a stubborn society,

Silence in her seductive portrait,
Shapes and colors hand painted by an omniscient God,
With a frame sculpted from clay by the same figure within the heavens,

Silence in the still of her beauty,
How is it that the creature unarguably holding the most beauty also holds the most...
...silence?,
...mystery?,
...hurt?,

Take her away,
Away to a place where she may flourish and rejoice,
To a place where she is accepted and appreciated,
A place to bathe her wings with the sun so that she can feel beautiful once again,
Fly,
Fly ButterFly Away.