The Monarch

April 23, 2009
fluttering, floating, the butterfly flies
not caring if it lives or dies
the grass whistles, shaken in the wind
the trees reply in a melancholy hurrah
yet the butterflies bright orange wings still glow

fluttering, floating, the butterfly flies
not caring if it lives or dies
the cities howl in anguished cries
the car horns blare screaming shouts
yet the butterflies bright orange wings still glow

fluttering, floating, the butterfly flies
not caring if it lives or dies
the war tanks growl with rumbling disgust
grinding the enemies into still living dust
yet the butterflies bright orange wings still glow




fluttering, floating, the butterfly flies
not caring if it lives or dies
the tortured children scream and shout
they lost their innocence before they were born
yet the butterflies bright orange wings still glow

fluttering, floating, the butterfly flies
not caring if it lives or dies
the nuclear energy rocks the earth
they had no chance to save each other
yet the butterflies bright orange wings still glow

fluttering, floating, the butterfly flies
not caring if it lives or dies
the tuol sleng students empty their lockers
the new principal demands disorder
yet the butterflies bright orange wings still glow

fluttering, floating, the butterfly flies
not caring if it lives or dies
the scared children scream for redemption for an uncommitted crime, suffering by them selves, and yearning for help
yet the butterflies bright orange wings still glow


fluttering, floating, the butterfly flies
not caring if it lives or dies
the mind-bended slaves cry out in fear
not for help but for their lives to end
yet the butterflies bright orange wings still glow

fluttering, floating, the butterfly flies
not caring if it lives or dies
peace is uncool the unruly student shouts
the teacher, a pacifist for the nations can only stand nondescript in the background
yet the butterflies bright orange wings still glow

fluttering, floating, the butterfly flies
not caring if it lives or dies
a child we fear, for the end is near
no longer alive but cant help but try
yet the butterflies bright orange wings still glow

fluttering, floating, the butterfly flies
not caring if it lives or dies
returns to the meadow of life and death
to drink from the shallow pool of trust
and live another day
although all that surround it don't





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