A single silent glimmer
A whisper to the deepest depths
A gleaming butterfly, an inch away
Casts one red string trail
As it floats away
Carrying lyrics on its back.
We snatch the cord like a fishing line
Thinking ourselves great,
When the prey we hunt has the true virtue.
Do not take advantage of the butterfly.
Let it guide you softly, let the gentle shine
Blind you of all else.
As it burns, it will consume the darkness.
As it burns, it will become clear.
Follow the string, and grab
Your pen and paper,
For inspiration has struck.