A quiver of firefly wings
Waver in her haze, a
Last Flutter upon death’s
Fingertips.

Craving a velvet heart
She alights into the lungs of
The living, where woeful
Red vessels lie blackened
By a lost humanity,
The once immortal cells
Passing on to the abyss of
Midnight.

Left to gasp in smoky
Fumes, she withers in despair,
Seeping into the muted
Grey of a lingering sky,
Sown with her suffering.

The breath of life,

Her pure soul,

A gift we wilfully poison.

In a ceaseless voice she
Yearns, awaiting her
Angel’s remedy, for life
She lives in flesh and blood,
Wilting in this breathless
Colourless land.