(Unedited)
Bury your head in a book and build paper butterflies so you can fly away on their wings.
They will take you to the lands where love and pain are premiss.Book plots that twist and turn,
A labyrinth of golden stacks
The smell of a far off place.
Where knights and princesses catch eyes
and to the future,
where robots and armies have conquests.
Let those butterflies swoop and dive like swallows,
to this place where everything can be real
sweet delicacies like fondant jam and honey drops.
Where the sky is a soft subtle blue,
before turning to a blood crimson.
Yet here the books live, they tower strong
not toppled by the gentle flutter of the butterflies
that land and rest still; their white wings like parchment;
for you to admire the beauty of this place
a place so unreal yet so real.
That is only a word away
and that turn of the page.
Something so secret; locked away,
in your imagination it shall stay.
Love,
TSITR
