The Butterfly and the Bee

The Butterfly and The Bee
  Their sting from such two worldly things


two lives,
sharing sky
crossing paths

never meant to be

Thus was the tale of
  The Butterfly and the Bee.

one industrious
  the other ornamental perhaps

one loyal,
  the other free

dedicated to one cause,
  both share one purpose

    even an entire sky.

the bee returns home, working into oblivion
  the butterfly to her own, but both of another colony. 

Her sting is carried in her transformation, and then her beauty. 
  His, in the industry of loyalty-

  one cause. 

The Butterfly, To Pollinate Life
  The Bee, to Pollinate his Queen. 
  He also has no stinger.  His is another. 

An absence.  An impossibility. 


But Just because

  Could never be. 

Can Never Bee.

  For He dies by the hand of mating. 

Swift through this life,
  perhaps they will meet again

  with a suitable capacity. 

This life, never meant for more..

than merely, that which it is.

  A butterfly Can love,
  but I wonder,

Can a Bee?

The Ten

 

My heart breaks in silent 

  Compound fractures 

With every whisper of the alcohol on your breath. 

My heart dies a little, everyday, 

  Eating it's own allies, as the taken for-granted leaves less and less light 

 To live by. 

I am a waste-away, haunted shell-like hollow- 

  Chasing a billowing smoke 

That casts a shadow 

On the rendered near. 

Exposed, for what I could never amount to, 

 A vessel forlorn with the grief 

  Of bad luck, 

But heartbreak the 10 daggers. 

Ever emerging from the darkest ash, 

  From an even deeper chasm in the earths hollow mound, 

I am only me, when I am turning over, 

 In transition 

  Between ivory towers 

Dying a death in love. 

Confused in love

 Wanting none of it

Rendered null against your Sun

 losing 

Self. 

Feeling perhaps as small...

  As you want me. 

Back into the darkness

  I fall. 

  Once more. 

10 daggers below. 

And then 

 

I will Rise. 

Savior

 

Savior

I will find your kingdom, I will. 

  I 

Promise. 

While the streets are patrolled, 

 And the underground trafficked...

I will find you. 

I will. 

I will sift through your Holy Book, 

 and I will sift through theirs...

And I will count the lost tracks I have left behind, 

 As I stumble into the abyss, aiming for Your Light. 

I take up the pieces from the streets, 

 Teddy bears covered in splattered blood, 

Baby shoes left in piles....

 

I will cry and press on, weeping for these your children, my kin. 

All I see is dust and disparity, 

  Death in their eyes and depravity...

I am trembling and anxious in fear, 

  But it is my walk, 

And I will not stop- 

I will find your kingdom, 

And beg you. I will beg you...

To help these people....

And know that it is still a long shot. 

Why then, 

 Do we, your children, remain so devoted to you? 

I will never know, stumbling through to your light. 

Is it that the Devil got ahold? 

 What power of you against him? 

The children, 

They are raped. 

Their lives are sacrificed. 

Their cold naked bodies, thrown away. 

Where are you then? 

Who puts upon them this to endure? 

Tainting their souls forever. 

Breaking them past many lifetimes. 

What, 

If they can not evolve? As they tread water, as they drown? What of them God? 

Where is your Holy Power? 

Your Holy Place? 

Where is this savior, so many thought themselves promised? 

I will....

Find you one day. 

I will.  

I think we are all, 

Expecting some answers. 

Especially those of us, 

That still believe in you.