- (hated for its colors?) -

Wasted years
for a chrysalis
who fought so hard
to escape hungry predators.

Once a butterfly,
you saw her fall
into the candlelight
and the room now smells
of burned, scaly wings.

The inevitable quest
for a better, peaceful life
- in a garden lovingly imagined -
ends well too soon.

- It is dangerous to reach
a certain degree of perfection;
it is not love you attract,
but greed and possession -

When the butterfly's remains
are embraced by warm wax,
you finally see it rest
in sad, lifeless quiet
(after the storm, the maelstrom).

You see, darling,
in an eccentric butterfly's life
there's no room for simple dreams.
You need to be an ordinary bug
to find comfort, go unnoticed.

Too much challenge
and the world's aggressive.
Sometimes, being who you are
is enough to cause
competitive, angry stings.

If you are telling me
that it's better to be envied
than pitied - just think
how envy bites and poisons.

Death by immolation
was the deed of a feeble mind
and a trembling hand,
both unaware of the hate
that left the flame to harm.

The hand wanted to take
all it could not ask for,
all it could not give.

- I wish that there was someone
who'd want a butterfly to live -

Darling?