Exquisite butterflies, restrained for display Kept as a noble prize, yet a puzzling dismay Shades of splendor, formation of majesty Silhouettes so tender, a broken rhapsody Drawn down, pressed with a weighty sky Settled facedown, spirits that can only cry Song is the foe, which is embraced fervently A broken bow, forlorn in time indefinitely Life’s intricacies suggest no way out Besieged to focus, staggering about Groping franticly, to exit this prison Expiring romantically, a poisoned commission Passing memories, exquisite butterflies escape Living obsequies, all of life now takes shape The trappings of mortality, whispering about A shattered finality, broken hearts, filled with doubt Mutually souls conscious, never obtaining fulfillment Only the comfort of having met, to ease the torment Hopeful to forget, wishing to restore the unknowing bliss A walking silhouette, unaware if the enormous abyss Freedom entails broken glass, splintered lights Dreams of the meadows grass, belief that reunites Dare the hazard be engaged? Dare the occasion be measured? To live at risk restaged, or safely die as one that is treasured Miguel Antonio Francis