Sunday, May 22, 2011

.i can't help you.

.little butterfly, what do you know of love?
the dark lace of your wings can't compare to the blackness of our hearts
You flit away from the eyelid as it opens
much like the dream that flickers beneath it, soon as you leave
You fly onto the palm that can crush you if it wishes
you fly away before it does
What do you want?

little butterfly, do you feel pain?
watching us revel in the acid rain that chokes you
But our pain is so much more intricate, we'll say
Yet I wonder
What makes your life pale so in significance
compared to one of ours?
Why not drain this world dry of its nectar for our material claims to emotions
and leave for you only that of our industries?
What do we want?

little butterfly, do you have emotions?
or are the patterns your dance creates just escape routes?
Do you know you're doomed, if you don't give in to our blood-lust?
When you hover around me, are you asking for help?
Maybe you could salvage a little shard of this
and keep it, it's what you're a part of

Then again
What do you know of love?.

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