Death is a Butterfly in a Mason Jar

For death is something

That cannot be caught in butterfly nets

And kept trapped in glass jars

Death cannot be locked by time alone

Its shadowy wings must flutter

Like ashes through smoke

And search for a breath to steal

As it cannot create its own, only pilfer

Death suckles on nectar tears

Sweet to its palate as it is bitter to mortals

Indulge in soft, exquisite decay

Within the lost garden of perennial grief

All before its delicate withering skin

Touches upon an unfortunate fragile falling chest

And suffocates it with gossamer light

Until ceases it to rise once more

Death is beauty and darkness intertwined

Like a balloon string entangled on a white rose stem

Or blood on a stained glass window

Not all can appreciate its grotesque sensibility

As they fear for their mortality

They simply fail to view past the thin veil

To reveal a nurturing, solitary entity

For death is lone, but it must never be lonely

A heart to bring, one soul to reap

For death must always carry one life

Before it takes away its own.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s