Drowning of the butterfly.

Drowning of the butterfly.

Wings pierced and life flailing…see how it is sucked into the massive blue with an almost blood- curling flutter. An unnerving silence prevails; suggesting no evidence whatsoever of what was.
Then it goes back to how it was; the butterfly forgotten.
Waves cease not thrashing, sky darkens and eventually clears. Silence is broken and restored.
What of the trapped butterfly?
Fading in its yellow…looming closer to the lusty crimson rosebud of death.
The pollens of death scatter wild, poisoning with every gentle brush..sucking calm..churning filth.
There is an interesting pattern that forms as blood trickles on the sunny wings.
It suggests many conflicting impressions; confused clottings of wrath and frustration ; fresh ones over the ones hardened with time.
There is an endless cycle of hope and hurt; glimpses of hunger craving to be devoured.

The butterfly performs a final graceful act in its waning struggle for survival; and then it is consumed forever in the blue.
A majestic fall. But what a waste.

Curse attraction.