October, Nineteen sixty.
Men and women pack the room and wait
in anticipation as the caterpillar
crawls to his beginning.
Screams echo through the hall,
bouncing from wall to wall
as the metamorphosis begins
And the cocoon takes shape.
It only takes eighteen minutes
for the shell to break away and
reveal the beauty beneath.
A butterfly is born. A legend begins.
June, Twenty Sixteen.
Doctors and nurses pack the room and wait
in desperation as the butterfly
floats toward his ending.
Cries echo through the world
From cities with fountains to hills and mountains
As decay begins
and the butterfly fades away.
It only took eighteen hours.
For the heart to stop beating
and the wings to stop fluttering.
A butterfly dies. A legend remains.