Glass wings

An elusive glass winged butterfly accepted a fingerprint, my last act before death arrived in the confluence of night and day, he also collected my mark on his transparent wings as my senses had a seance reaching the incandescence of four seasons merged. There I was asleep in the butterfly's annexe my spirit flew in synchronicity with the butterfly. I experienced the gleam but could not enter heaven's lucid city's until I found a fingerprint. I was woken by moonlight in the butterfly's wing and at once we pressed on the the fingerprint-the butterfly passed away, I entered paradise.