Literature
Nighttime Butterfly
She doesn't see it,
Doesn't even try,
But she really is
A nighttime butterfly,
The moon's pale beams
All vie to touch
Her twilight skin,
But she doesn't care much
For the affections
Of bold moonlight,
And instead prefers
To stay out of sight,
In the dark,
Where she hides her wings,
Covered in dust,
Just like mundane things,
But in truth
They're pretty jewels,
Those who say differ
Are ignorant fools
For a moth fairy
Should not be ashamed
Because she lacks the color
For which monarchs are famed,
A moth fairy
Should instead be proud
That the night loves her more
Than anyone under her shroud,
Because to see the night