Butterfly

By Nida Fatima

In the realm of make-believe, where dreams are sown,

the butterfly sought solace in the darkness unknown.

In idyllic hues, life's canvas unfolds,

where hope, woebegone, a cloak of sorrow beholds.

Once a sight to behold, now merely an absence on the windowsill,

the butterfly's but a silenced witness to life's intricate thrill.

For in idyllic retreats, epiphanies unfold,

and her erstwhile sorrows fade into stories untold.

The butterfly can but embrace her plighted fate,

steadfast against all aberration, her sorrows reverberate.

The child couldn't stand the trials of the hour, the tapestry of time

her misery was woven in symphony, as his terror intertwined.

Let the butterfly be a reminder, a cautionary tale

of the vile deeds that the child had to entail.

By Nida Fatima