Let me tell you a tale, oh ye who listen,
About a butterfly who sold her colours,
To fulfill her dreams, a dream she believed in,
The echo she created outlasted her breath.
But alas, what she did, drain her out of her charm,
For the world crushed her dreams like a dead flower,
The flower too looked drained and colourless,
Like her and her crushed dreams.
But the stream inside her mind,
Still sang a song for every tiny reason,
She found happiness in that tiny reason,
And that made her smile in every season.
Among all the hues and cries, she thrived,
Among the dust and the ashes she rose,
If ever you see a butterfly without the colour,
Remember my friend this tale and her crushed dreams.