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The Gunshy Butterfly
Contributed by
GemmaLouiseRose
on
Monday, 21st May 2007 @ 02:50:40 AM in AEST
Topic:
secrets
|
Gunshy Butterfly
The silent lead shot through her wings at greater speed than light,
her colours bled and tears shed long into the night.
She fell upon a bed so soft made of grass and white rose heads,
stained in blood of blues and reds,
Covered thick of wings in shreds.
She would not be tamed.
Her heart so black would not be claimed.
He took his aim right through her wings,
now sorrows all her angel sings.
The silent lead lay still and cold deep inside her corpse,
the gun lay also by her side screaming brainless thoughts.
It reached out far with armless urge,
Helpless it watched the colours merge.
Out it cried with eyeless pain,
screamed with soundless, mouth less shame.
Now it is inane.
There she rots beneath the rain.
Dead is her mind
Her beauty
Her fame
Black, white and grey remain.
Leave her there, that useless figure
Taken by the blindest trigger
Copyright ©
GemmaLouiseRose
... [
2007-05-21 02:50:40]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: The Gunshy Butterfly
(User Rating: 1 )
by deadheadpoet on
Monday, 21st May 2007 @ 03:28:40 AM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
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Wow. Wow. I really enjoyed reading this. Your descriptive words laid it out like a painting before me. The butterfly...
"She fell upon a bed so soft made of grass and white rose heads,
stained in blood of blues and reds,
Covered thick of wings in shreds."
Did I say Wow? You penned an exceptional write. Thank you for sharing.
Peace, Laura |
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Re: The Gunshy Butterfly
(User Rating: 1 )
by SalamanderKing1 on
Monday, 21st May 2007 @ 07:27:41 AM AEST
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Info | Send
a Message)
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| this is a loverly poem |
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