Butterfly

Where is volition, and have you found your way doing what you thought you ought?

What are these wisps of wind coming from deep within?

but your words are contrary to the nature you present,

and your lies not becoming of the gent you resent.

did I choose my path or was I destined to falter?

free will they say, and my rights were given by God,

but I stole them from Him and his eternal cookie jar languishes,

it’s empty you see?

and we say hallelu, and we preach and we do,

but nothing really changes,

just faded canvas and purged dross,

for what’s lost was once found,

what floats has now drowned,

sinking slowly and bobbing in the mire,

it’s all muck, now observe; you get what you deserve.

but you press in to me and you smoke my lips,

you’re a drain on my soul, trying to make yourself whole,

at what  cost, have I no value?

but I’m that waif, I bare my neck and you bite,

sanguine pearls at the edge of your lips betray your ardor,

you don’t love me,

you’ve found something good and you’ve crushed between sheaves,

in a book, in a museum; crushed petals, roses, leaves.

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