Leaving in Blue

Silence.
The halls are empty.
The air flutters with a void:
It’s all over.

Desertion,
The desks are empty.
The seniors fluttered off hence:
It’s all over.

Sadness,
The heart feels empty.
My pulse flutters when I think
It’s all over.

Hope,
It is not empty,
As the mind flutter ensues;
It’s not over.

Dreams,
They await to be fulfilled,
Seeking fluttered souls nigh,
As all dreams begin.