Butterfly collector
Rows of jars of souls
Each is individual and unique
It doesn’t make a difference to you

It’s a ruthless hobby
But still you’ll continue
Pinning their wings
Making them cry

You’ve made a prison
They’re screaming for freedom
And they are bleeding
Pools of scarlet wine

It’s what you live off of
The essence of beauty
Because you are a beast
This elixir won’t heal you

But still you will smile
Baring your fatal fangs
Their death is sweet music
In an ocean of tears

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