Monday, June 13, 2011
Fly, oh butterfly 
She is at the point of breaking,
At the verge of crying,
When everything seems menacing,
Yet no one cares to fathom,
Confusion and stress relentlessly pour in,
Her senses are all mixed up,
I wish she doesn't has to go through such torment,
I wish someone could put an end to that.
Where was the butterfly that she once saw?
Trapped within a jar, it is.
Undergone metamorphosis, the butterfly once had,
Its wings unfurled, its vibrancy dispersed,
High in the wild blue yonder, soaring without reserve,
It was the fantasy of all, the esprit of this ornament.
Indeed it was an ornament, for it had caused lust,
Among other creatures, among other critters,
It had had no woes for the jealousy it had caused in the past,
For life was wondrous, the butterfly once weathered.
"Fly, oh butterfly."
She said as she loosens the lid,
And far away it flies,
As high as it may go,
Its future still dithers.
Fly, oh butterfly,
And never turn back.
Eaten @ 11:53 PM |
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