A Butterfly Through Death


I am the broken clouds that rain misery 
Upon the fragile world 
I am the one that hold the sadness of the sinister winds
And the lone flower that blooms in the depths of winter
A storm keeper of dismay 
I fold and bow
But this is not with humbleness 
More so of an endless sea of cowardliness that floods from my soul
Manifesting itself as my tears 
Why am I so weak? 
Why can I not stand up to the demons that inhabits the storm within me?
My essence screams for revolution 
Although all I am is a lost self entitled salve  
That lies quiet, waiting to be devoured 
Who am I to call myself a man?
For all I am is prey for the wolfs that incircle me
As well as an open target for karma’s unfortunate fate
Pity me not, because i know the winter does not last forever 
And there is a land of peace in the middle of this chaos
So, let me die as I am now 
And may I be reborn as guardian of hope
That lives in the darkest valleys 

And in the grips of any starless nights
~ Tony Paradise’s Poet ~
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