Paradise...?

A tryst for lovers under sweet moon's embrace,
An ancient place for angels where their hearts doth race,
Where shattered dreamms are never spoken nor told,
And hollow miseries are forgotten tales of old.

Entwining ivy vines that hold roses sweet,
Encircle the waterfall, its cool waters deep,
And shimmer their radiance on soft water's edge,
A pretty catalyst of love they doth pledge.

Amongst the dark vines of sweet pouring delight,
Under the stormy skies and dead of the night,
A door appears as the black skyline flashes,
And the glistening lightning brings forth its crashes.

The door is ancient, a dim wooden thing,
It glows with bright gold from the hope that it brings,
Sent down from heaven, it is a portal to all,
To see their dead loved ones as midnight falls.

To see this overwhelming, powerful sight,
And to see the angels strong blinding light,
You must seek the butterfly of ancient wing,
Whose heart is pure and whose soul doth sing.

This ancient creature of pure petal dust,
So fast and so free of the peoples own lust,
Doth travel this garden of pure magic spells,
And listens itently to the stories we tell.

The gift of this butterfly and the secret it keeps,
Resides only at midnight when most mortals sleep,
And those select few, who see its deep light,
Can no longer live in the mortal world's sight.