Butterflies

Remember the butterflies, oh what a sight!

   They fly with courage, even by night.

Learn from their solitude and your plight -

   maybe someday you can weaken your right.

 

Seeped up in sponges, the work is no reel;

   sopped up by buckets no longer appeal.

I've been gates of heresy, led them astray;

   more hurt inside than a regular saint.

Following footsteps so long been revealed -

   daily I learn to loose doubt deeply sealed.

Visions of hope full of joy so refined -

   get there by melting ambitions defined.

Wrought through with agony, senses I please.

  Too lucid the dreams and too gory the reams.

 

You're more a man than scars allow -

   speak deeply towards the stern and the bow.

 

Clearly teeming, beautiful words -

   sound them softly ever in terms.