Cruel I
Flight-upon wings til I-
ripped those wings out of the sky.
Pretty petals, now, heaven bound
the owner- rooted-on the ground.
That butterfly!-now helplessly wheel
on clumsy feet, as the ants peel
your earthly flesh away-Decay!
Leaves of wings, now, heaven lost
Cruel I- Whilst butterfly deems
its wings, to be....the dying....sunlight........beams.............
© Caroline Alicia Harris