Butterflies..

Wish I can go back to my cocoon,
stayin in a world of my own,
hiding away from this place of bitter cold,
of pain and truth unfolds,
Alone I have always stood,
with company of just momentary sweet,
But alas,
as ashes I come and ashes I disintegrate..

So I will live my life of 2 weeks, eat, mate and die..
There is no shelter for this life of mine.
No solitude for this weary soul just mockery as I was told.
For I am not a beautiful butterfly,
more like a hideous moth,
gory to the eyes.

I thought I have met my final place of rest,
Need not fly away or be squashed I prayed,
but I guess this is never my space,
Only blissful winks of less than a minute,
I will fly again and away I bet,
into another strange net,
and duefully crushed to end my misery..

NOTE: Ppl told me no need to take things so seriously one.. Like that only also must write poetry. Somemore with so many words of misery. Just take things easy.. drink and be happy. There is always Merry.. Okler. This is nothing to do with life and death. Just a simple story of rhyme sad theory.. Not to be taken seriously.. :)