One of the most fragile creatures known on this earth...
It's wings lighter then a single feather of a bird, it's wings are it's prize and worth...

More then a design of beauty, but an artwork purposely fashioned
So delicately it dares to sore with it's enemies in the sky, although it's small and passionate...

It's weak flutter is what gives itself the power to rise.
Small and beautiful, just like most models, but too soon, it dies..

Isn't it filled with complete innocence? Absolutely Not!  
For it stole from the plant that offered it's self as it's home! This was the little Caterpillar's plot!

For the beginning of it's life, it was surround by the world that was large and gigantic!
It took what it's selfish flesh desired, although it wore a disguise that was anything but frantic.

It's small head always looking up for more, but not even the tastiest leaf nor string of grass could satisfy
It was soaked up by the dirt's promise for fulfillment and the  grounds believable lies

If it was wise, it would climb up the rough bark of a tree...
Though it may stumble more then it would on the ground, at the end, it'll soon see that it'll be set free...

The realization of the submission to the wind became it's dream
The acknowledgement of the heavens surrounded it's theme

Slowly locking it'self in a cocoon to suffocate and silencely ****** it's sinful past
It's change of mind and soul transformed itself into a floating mast

The mystery of this transformation no creation can define nor grasp
When it finally rips away it's old flesh, a new beginning has finally clasped

It eye's pop out, now fully unblinded from the distractions of the ground
It's body now weightless, free from it's burdens, it's sky like desires were found

A new creature, a new creation, has used its finished painting as wings to reveal its duty
What it is weak in size and strength, it makes up for in character and beauty

What use to be selfish and rude is now compassionate to nature with every flutter
The stars of the ground of flaring colors share it's sweet drink with it's new friend,  this change of hearts causes it's enemies to shutter

The priceless beauty it contains is more then just an mask, but also
an act for it's enemies!
Willing to sacrifice it's self for it's kind, some will surrender their poison filled bodies, killed helplessly

Determined to distract, Skillfully willing to scare, these little ones will do anything.
Protecting countless eggs, so they too may learn about the freedom through the flap of a wing

Their portrait of many colors signify the mercy of a Flame we deserve
Beautifully created, and light in flight, our eyes able to examine such a jewel is grace that we need to preserve*

There is a flame... do you dare want to experience it?

The yonder above is forever bruised and opaque
Reigning over glum faces
Complexions washed with a bloodless shade of dispassion
Robotic, disengaged.

Material desires are quenched with vast shopping centres
Credit Cards hold on for dear live
As every last drop of sweet money is rinsed from that plastic rectangle.

Living beyond our means
Whilst simultaneously refusing to give up on Sky TV box sets and liquid lunches.

Hooked to our phones, but not for telephone communication
Rather, for self validation
Defined by the click of a heart or pathetic thumb.

The once friendly communities
With blood coursing through their veins
Are husks of their previous life form, gentrified beyond recognition.

Filtered faces with protruding spines and modified features
Infiltrate mass media
Corrupting the definitions of success and beauty.

Plastic personalities reign supreme
Vacuous minded socialites profess women’s empowerment begins with the flaunting of skin
Rather than the possession of a strong mind.

Many bury their heads in the sand
Residing in ignorance
As mass genocides and civil wars manifest every second.

Or worse, they read the TORYgraph and THE ****  
Believing immigrants spawn white genocide
And white conservatives suffer oppression.

Pffft!

I have deep contempt for those behind these ***** tabloids
Murdoch and his monsters
Orchestrating lies and bile
Destroying lives or scaremongering the impressionable
Committing the most savage, sycophantic crimes
In order to extract Monday’s headline.

I do not suffer fools
Especially those who make up the tapestry of dystopia
A failing age of doom.