• It flaps its wings in a continuous cycle of life and death
    Her blood was spilled, causing its birth
    She lied, near lifeless, on the ground underneath the sakura tree
    It flapped around her.
    Her once bloody red hair had now turned to a lifeless ghostly white
    Still it flapped
    In one hand, she held a knife and, in the other, lay nothing but blood
    It flapped as if nothing had happened
    In her gnarled twisted mind, death was the only answer to a curse
    Still it flapped its bloody wings
    Her large tear-filled empty eyes stared up at it

    Still you mock me!

    Catatonic and dying, she watched, with her empty eyes, as they flapped their bloody wings, spawned from her blood.

    Her blood had spawned them

    Her Bloody Butterflies