Colourblind Butterflies

Howw
Can you expect me to stay here,
when we stand on such fragile ground?
These wings are taking to long to form,
I need an exit, I need it now,

The roses
once placed in your hands
Holds nothin,
more
than remnince to the days we were alive!

I once bled the stars dry
To save your life
What a waste, What a crime

I will paint this canvas with my tortured harmonies.