Wings - Through misted cloudy eyes

"Through misted cloudy eyes

I stared upon your grave.

Feeling empty and confused

the sun beamed on my face.

I gazed into the heavens,

you were tranquil and at ease,

fluttering about with angelic wings.

From the warmth of mom’s cocoon.

To the heavens in the sky.

Fly on angelic beauty,

my butterfly in the sky."

StandPoint Memoirs