Black butterfly

She was that stranger..

A stranger to her eyes..

A stranger in her mind..

It hurt, it really hurt,

but with time she loved it.

She was a stranger..forever-changing.

Always born living and dying,

like a leaf on a breeze..

always on the flow..

swirling and dancing in a sundress.

Like the moon,

she will always fade and glow.

She will always rise and break,

silently like a wave on the water surface.

She will always be reborn, and transform..

like a black butterfly.

She is life and she is death..

She is a black butterfly.