Loss of Motif
The seamless sky called life shined in boundless beauty,
on the rippling breeze flitted a butterfly free,
on its wings I painted lattice of my being,
flowers in the garden bloomed all seasons for me.
The dawning horizon splashed the spectrum of bliss,
as on the wings of dream I was on course to fly,
euphoria took me to realm of fantasy,
I didn’t see storm clouds gather at the edge of sky.
Splintered in the flickering vive of tinged twilight,
in the vortex of spasm I saw my sky decay,
crumble with my crushed dreams in the abyss of void,
in its dark depth I found the end of my pathway.
The flushing garden turned to withering debris,
wilted flowers didn’t see the new sunrise in spring.
Surge of winter storm carried away the petals,
the butterfly lost motif of its broken wings.
____________
August 5, 2022
Syllable count : 12 per line
Contest : A Brian Strand Premiere Choice
Sponsored by : Brian Strand
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