The beautiful black butterfly

The beautiful black butterfly
Lies helplessly.
Exhaused from the fight.

Her wings charred,
From the fires you breath
Burnt out, unable to beat.

The patterns of decoration,
Painted over her silky body,
Tell a tail, her own life story.

A time when this creature danced,
Of happy memories.
The flower bed she inhabitated.

The blossom where she fluttered,
That small child,
Who couldn't quite catch her.

The thoughts and dreams,
Of distant sweet scented
summer evenings.

The sun set that day,
And the moon never rose.
The stars came out.

Yet her sky remained
A dark vast black,
Her dark nightmare.

No longer could she see,
No warmth to keep her safe,
No laughter and no play.

Only your twisted deluded ways.
Attracted by her innocence,
Wanting her beauty.

You tricked her for no reason
And you'll kill,
For no other excuse, except the excitment.

There is no one to save her,
We all think of the moment,
Guilt fueled misery.

As the beautiful black butterfly
Roasts in the pits
Of our own personal hell.