The enemy angrily blasts it's guns,
Carelessly littering the battlefield,
As troops slowly creep foward

The blasting of every bullet,
Sends each solider to cling tighter,
To the untruthful idea of eternity

As if they could steal a forevermore,
With a metallic grasp,
Or even theif but one more breath

But at the blood red hands,
Of the envitable enemy,
They can never win

Whether they are gunned down in an instant,
Or slowly torn apart,
The enemy will triamph

We will all join the army of the fallen.

Again the minor tune of the bickering begins,
Sitting stagnant in the air around,
Slowing sinking into the walls,
Clinging to the structure and sticking to the ground

A wet cloth on butterflies once so eager,
Now they sit dormant waiting to fly,
Knowing not if they will be called upon,
Just sitting waiting to die

Bitterness flows through the air again,
Replacing something once so sweet,
Oh how I used to cherish you,
In the days before our lens went bleak

We used to laugh so joyously,
Smiles dancing on our lips,
Before the fruit went sour,
Before disaster hit

These days love seems but a memory,
Drifting far from shore,
Back then I was so happy,
But now I pine for more

Trapped in the house of misery,
Softly I begin to cry,
Quietly I'm mourning,
The death of the butterflies.