THERE'S A FLY IN MY SOUP

My mind was lost in a fog,
gray covered my every thought,
couldn’t see day or truth.

Heard a buzzing in my head,
it annoyed, but wouldn’t go away,
assumed it was another fly,
those bugs that light with whims.

When its wings became a wind
blowing open a portal to my quill’s scenery,
sometimes inspiration isn’t just by a butterfly.