Dying Butterflies

There is a beautiful,
vibrant,
swiftly soaring,
butterfly

It's wings move,
As it slowly soars,
across the baby blue sky

Such a magnificent sight,
the butterfly,
is pure blissfulness to the eye

But what is the butterfly,
without it's wings,
all it's beauty,
gone

With one touch,
It slowly falls,
crippled little butterfly

Gently falling,
Like a leaf,
slowly hitting the ground

The butterfly,
with all beauty lost,
just lays there

Dying butterflies,
to the floor,
fluttering,
to a careless dance