A Half Torn Wing

In the narrow lanes

Where I lost life

To someone

Who gained mine..

That day, I found a beauty on the road,

A half torn wing of a butterfly,

All black with white spots

Speaking hues as sunshine shone...

Maybe she lived a life so whole,

Or got killed by a toad,

Plucked together with a rose,

Or still flew with half a wing gone.

Knew if she, I wonder,

About the bout of gluttony

What greeny bloat was she,

Before she metamorphosised,

Against all odds.