whirling flight

when dust rises from rubble

Of the future we have set to face

Butterflies will continue to dance

when nature forgets its instincts

Due to catastrophic abuse

Butterflies will continue to dance

humans forgotten in graves dug for themselves

By themselves, with a welcoming hand

Butterflies will continue to dance

when the world is no longer a familiar place

but a barren land of souls

Butterflies will continue to dance

Over flooded,

it’s own Atlantis,

no regard for those who can’t swim,

Overtaken by notions of being over grown

assuming butterflies will continue their dance,

dance for a new morrow, claimed by the very things once taken for granted

confusing yells of sorrow, for cheers

Too high on ideals of never ending abundance,

unaware of how hard the low hits when there’s nothing to soften the blow

when caterpillars metamorphosize and climb out, into their new being,

reclaiming spaces that belong to them,

from dancing beasts with no regard of another.

butterflies do continue to dance,

Whirling in flight,

no swatting figures to get in their way.