The era is ending,

My butterflies are dying, 

And you are leaving. 

You reached into my pocket, 

Pulled out my love,

And stomped on it.

Our love is withering, 

Your flowers have shriveled, 

And you have abandoned me.

Our garden hinges on the bees and the butterflies, 

We were hummingbirds and moths trying to make it work,

And it was always too much.

You truly think that you were right, 

Your moral compass has been misaligned,

And I have left.

I am long gone when you try to come running back,

You cried and cried and cried, 

And I remained stoic. 

Our era has ended,

The butterflies are gone,

And we both decided to leave.