Rain turned to ice,and lightning splintered, it splicedthe black sky, it seeped a bright white.All animals they fled,from the sky as it bled,pale death that fell veiling the night.
a flower knows, when its butterfly will return, and if the moon walks out, the sky will understand;but now it hurts, to watch you leave so soon,when I don't know, if you will ever come back.
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a flower knows, when its butterfly will return, and if the moon walks out, the sky will understand;but now it hurts, to watch you leave so soon,when I don't know, if you will ever come back.
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