Devil’s butterflies

Imagine if the devil played with butterflies

It’s true, he is evil

But this doesn’t mean he didn’t curl his toes in sand

Stare at clouds and cry on sight.

He is strong.

Long he does for the days of light again

But he carries a burden just like a mother

Smother himself and bathe in fire

As he knows without him good would neither exist.

Tired he never grew

He learned to twist his appeal for butterflies

Into a luring game before he would kill it.

We should never stop fighting the devil

In fact we should seek to meddle with his life

Until he can strive no longer.

But he will always exist, he needs to.

In the crevices of our books, our torn history.

The salt of tears and ocean will remind us of his power

But that burden he carried, knowing he carried light

He knows it’s coming to kill him

With every ounce of its might.

3 thoughts on “Devil’s butterflies

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