Through the Creatures' Eyes
The beautiful butterfly fluttering and free
wondrous and windblown, always to be.
The wretched roach scrambling on the ground,
along with the dirt and grime hopefully never found.
Beauty and wretched on opposite sides of the spectrum,
traveling along in the other direction.
These roads traveled at length finally come to a destination,
curiously back to their origination.
Here the regal radiant roach angelic in kind,
now in a place it will always be fine.
The butterfly moth now harried and seasoned,
fallen from grace there really is no reason.
In the souls of men striving for clarity,
precarious perceptions prove loss of dignity.
Through the creatures eyes there is no vanity,
the only true vision not tainted by humanity
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