by Colin Ward

Created on: September 14, 2008   Last Updated: July 20, 2009

Once a dazzling butterfly, flying tapestry,
now a flapping moth, a blind entity.
In the nature, of that beast, you have taken flight,
into the darkness, of a lonely winters night.

Do you think those lights, shine bright for you?
That they are the answer, to your childish dreams?
Under their glare, you perch on little bars,
out of you head, forgetting what life means.

You're a tonic fuelled Titanic, running ever faster,
iceberg in a glass, that trembles in your hand.
Those subtle little sips, caveat to disaster,
and no one to hold you, when you cannot stand.

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