Tears Of A Butterfly.

     “TEARS OF A BUTTERFLY”

  

 

Last night near the lake, I sat by a butterfly,

 

She flew to a pebble sitting numb;

While a tear fell from her eye.

Momentary rest, she took flight again;

Dragged her body round the place,

Kept to float without a rhyme,

Crammed with eternal pain.

Ending the stern glide, took halt by a tree,

While I lurched along, craved the cause of her grief.

 

Crouched on to my palm, the gem spoke its heart out;

She wanders the valley seeking her flower,

Part of her daily bout.

She used to sit on the blossom,

Feel its silky snug, balm of petal soothed her wings,

Her flights were never struck.

 

Long does she remember, a fierce wind blew her flower,

The petals of her heart shred,

Nature’s puppet with a broken thread.

As she moves with the breeze,

Willing to go abode, to find shelter in her blossom,

Her wings carry all the load.

 

There she goes soaring high, But;

I saw the broken wing,

 Baffled to see her courage,

Waiting for the breeze to sing.

She comes by the lake every day,

If you see her do tell her again,

Millions of winds may pass away,

Her flower’s smell will always remain.

|Siddhant|  ©Cursed Ink 2016