war

---

solemn wings flap slowly as
a tear slides down a weary path
through dusty fields of blood and death
to end with tile; shaky breath

ever airborne, beauty goes,
while pooling slowly at her toes
the puddle forming 'round his nose
adds grief and pain unto her woes

captive of a blinding light
her anger builds at lack of right
he's oddly silent on this night
she has not yet begun to fight

drifting close to flaming doom
she lashes out at empty rooms
his hair is short, his beard, ungroomed
still, on tv, vict'ry yet looms

beauty dead and beauty gone
she rages out on her front lawn
at last he finds some peace by dawn
the night no longer will go on.

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a/n: for those w/ less imagination: the first
line of each stanza is about a butterfly, the
second is about a grieving woman, the third
is about a man at war, and thelast about the
woman again