The butterfly

by TrUtH hUrTs   Oct 25, 2004


Amorphous shadows lay deathly still
As the purest of blood did flow……
Once a creature of light, the butterfly-
Shrouded in darkness, died… alone

The twisted wings cast a broken pattern-
An uneven tapestry etched into the night
A broken memory from when the butterfly did fly…
Through the sleepy hues of my mind..

Born from the chrysalis of my sacred dreams
This creature lived within my soul
painting the darkness with dazzling colours
it embodied my fragile hopes

but the butterfly could not survive
the jagged edges of reality which
ripped it’s flesh with mendacious lies
and cut through it’s wings paper thin

so my butterfly withered away
upon the asphalt where it lay
leaving behind thoughts, scattered and misplaced
that whisper softly of dreams shattered..
never to be replaced....

0


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Latest Comments

  • 18 years ago

    by Nici

    Again good use of descriptive language and in an educated way.

    Keep writing
    Nici

  • 19 years ago

    by No Motiv?

    "ripped it’s flesh with mendacious lies
    " is my favorite part. I haven't rated a poem 5/5 in a long time, but this poem definitely earned a 5. Be proud of this piece.

  • 19 years ago

    by Leah20

    I really liked this poem. I generally don't like like poems about depression, but this was very original, I really enjoyed it, keep it up!

  • 19 years ago

    by N J Thornton

    I really enjoyed the imagery and your vocab shines greatly in this poem. You created a dark picture of this torn butterfly which lives inside your soul. You combined the concept of beauty and pain well. The only problem for me was in the third stanza, the flow seemed to break up a little. Apart from that great work, keep it up.

  • 19 years ago

    by Pianist

    You painted a vivid picture in my mind. Great job! I loved it