The Skeleton & The Butterfly

beinghuman.jpg
 
 

At the place where death and darkness call

And souls become debris,

Lies a sacred spot where pale leaves fall

From an ageing blossom tree.

And there amongst its petals

That float from tomb to tomb,

I saw a skeleton settle

To escape his life of gloom.

I watched him into nightfall,

I feared his ghoulish glare,

A corpse so cold and pale and tall,

I couldn’t help but stare.

A butterfly then flew close by,

Its fate seemed clear to me,

But the skeleton held it, with a tear in his eye

And then gently set it free.