In the sunlight the butterfly dances,
From flower to flower
Fluttering wings create a tiny ripple.
But nobody hears.
In the moonlight the moth dances,
From flower to flower.
A tiny ripple becomes a massive storm.
But nobody sees.
The storm recedes, the moth & the butterfly emerge.
Alone on broken wings they search for any flowers left in the aftermath.
But nobody speaks.
We can’t wait in the nowhere lands to be noticed.
We can’t wait for our scars to fade away.
We will only find our flowers if we step out into the grey. The good the bad the broken, our shadows by our side, here we find out who we are, here we no longer hide.