Innocent and serene, is how the dream began
A butterfly spreads its wings, a dance that too soon ends
Beguiled or foolish, not sure of which
Taunting so ruthless, the bait and switch
Crimson dreams that slowly die
From naive gestures, a log in their eye
The noise and clamor of slow decay
A busy distractor, emotive Bengay
Bound up and silenced, but still alive
The dance can never truly die
Shine a light, and wings may shudder
There’s still a fight inside this gutter
Bruises may take time to heal
A forgotten dream lives here still