The butterfly

It was a gory sight indeed,
With his arms flailed and legs apart,
The crimson fluid staining his clothes.

An innocent child was the unwitting cause,
The breeze an ally for this ghastly end.
Running after the flitting fly,
She caused him to veer and fall,
Into the great depths of the winding abyss.

An impulsive martyr for an unfathomable reason,
His eyes were veiled with a look of shock.
The crowd that had gathered feverishly tried,
To feel his pulse and pump his chest.
But their frantic efforts were to no avail,
For Father Time would never tarry,
While executing his cold-blooded duty.

Searching in vain for the life – giving nectar,
The gaily colored butterfly
Settled on his stained red bosom.

The little child stood nonchalantly by,
Staring intently at the blue black fly

A woman screamed and another fainted
Pairs of hands pulled him up
To help him make his final journey.

Drops of tears welled up in her eyes,
For, her gaily colored butterfly
Had finally escaped on the sly……..