WD 166 “Dead Butterfly”

A poem inspired by The Muse of Cold Earth.

Dead Butterfly

I am a larva 

But the sun cannot reach me

In my cave.

Do you hear the cries of my brothers and sisters as 

The rain water seeps into our underground caverns?

They say it is a sin

To be born small

And fail to rise up with elegance 

Evolution is a capilots aristocrat and not a god

Punishing the sick for being sick

Widows and orphans for being widows and orphans

And you ask me to bow to natural order