A fluttering Butterfly,amidst my Moonlit garden.
Multicoloured wings, ablaze,
sparkling fire all around.
Inflamed, a pale shade of red,
warmly washing the cold walls.
The icy loneliness, exiled.
I watch Her wings from afar,
scared of a sudden move shall
make of Her, just a mirage.
I await the night She'll come
and rest her flight on my hand.
'Til then, I'll savour her Light.
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