Fly With Me

Rhymes of limes and coppers dew, Chimes the lines on paper that blew. Fleeing a sprite of the thriving night, Eats upon the core, dimming the light. She glides slowly to the plummeting falls, Leaving behind her regrets she never calls. At the edge of life and the nightly cast, A beauty leaned to the far end of her last. Wind bracing every fault of the hero she saw, Looking above to her gait of lustful sights in awe. She reaches out but fails to grasp her destiny, Slowly towering her fate, she’d show this vanity. This beautiful fae you’ve only known for one phase, Asks you to join in this astoundingly graceful gaze. “Wanna fly?” Her last hair that stands on the edge starts to slip. She is instantly dropped down in a loss of grip. This lovely being of eternal sights, horns a vanish, As the night is no longer dim of this starved ravish. An awakening day has found her sprite of beauty, Living up to a destiny that solstice opposes gloomy. Blowing lines on paper doth chime, A dew of copper limes that rhyme.