Why do we catch fireflies in jar?
Why do we carry a net and chase
butterflies?
Why the need to capture beauty
then gawk while it dies
seeps away like the dwindling pleasure
which gets replaced by something wild.

Why do we blind ourselves
from our intricate dark side?
Why do we attempt to disguise
our malice under the robe of
the 'civilized'
when we are id, we are insane
we are the cutters
we are the chained
and we drown while we bury
and we crumble while we push

in layers and layers we carry
the agonizing truth

monsters we made, in mirrors we see
evil isn't another, is it underneath.