Fateful Hues

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The cocoon erupts oh so precipitously
the butterfly wings burn in the heat of the sun
burning so unsympathetically,
she flutters and flusters and falls beneath the shade of a down-to-earth flower lest
she be raped by creatures of the soil
praying for revival, and receiving it;
oft a child innocent-scampers across the viridescent teeming with multitudes of hues
following the blissful butterfly;
hush! an inauspicious flower
is plucked along the way;
Star-crossed was his fate –
The petite wings went down in history
But the petals they did not cremate.

~ Mariya Chherawala

(Artist: Olga Knezevic)

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