Die like a demented butterfly... 
crazy but still pretty,
Demanding attention.... (your attention... ) 

Winged beauty laying in the grass; 
Moans... sobs... weeps... 
Wrinkled wings...

Mutilated body within red tulips,
Shriveling, shrinking, withdrawing... 
wanting to soar, to reach for the stars,
the ones she has wished upon.

A non-bloody body...
A non-hearted chest...
Inured to any human diseases,
Immune to any human puzzle...
Unaware of the detestful world she 
has flown over.

Blur vision, 
'till she finally closes her tiny brown eyes, 
and dies, like she wanted to ... 
Like a demented butterfly.