A thing without a wing.........
Have you ever seen a butterfly ,without a wing?
On a thin thread of hope,to life,trying to cling.
Shivering and fluttering,obviously in great pain.
It goes on with the slightest hope of flying again.
But this butterfly is wounded,it has no right to fly.
To fly you have to be perfect,that is until you die.
The butterfly's wings are broken,lying helplessly beside.
The butterfly flutters hoping to take it in its stride.
Butv the butterfly forgets that it is imperfect.
Mutilated and tainted, it is different from its sect.
A thing without a wing can never fly.
It is bound to this earth till it can die.
Imperfection is curse that binds noone else.
In anticipation of more blows,the butterfly is always tense.
The butterfly is convinced it'll fly one day.
It'll shout and scream,make the world hear its say.
But its dreams are unachievable,its dreams are high.
Without wings,oh you foolish one,how can you ever fly?
So give up the stupid hope,just stop believing.
You are just another broken insect whose body into dust they'll fling.
Do you really think the world has a care?
You're in it alone,fly if you dare.
Of course I'm mocking you,cant you see?
Without wings you'll fly?How can that ever be?
You lie there with your bloodless wound.
Writhing and fluttering in shame on the ground.
The other butterflies just come and flit away.
Some are there for a longer time but they never do stay.
The butterfly wants to fly,maybe a lift with wings?
But the others dont have the strenght to carry the shame it brings.
And the butterfly is proud,it'll never ask for help.
You can trample its multi-colored wings with your boots,but it'll never yelp.
The butterfly is silent,it has no voice.
And even if it did,it would be quiet out of its own choice.
The butterfly lies there writhing in agony and pain.
Trying to touch the skies,trying in vain.
And then the butterfly lies still,it flutters no more.
The broken wings are calm,it's time will come for sure.
When it'll fly,it'll fly with the high wind.
All ties to the earthly world it will rescind.
Till that time the butterfly awaits in inertia.
Waiting in knowledge,which for others is trivia.
The sands of time is running,the end will surely come.
The peaceful end which a new beginning may become.....