We Killed All the Butterflies

I stood in the middle of a rose garden I watched nature map out its own pattern I quietly listened out for the budding And heard the sound of a bee buzzing I stood in the middle of a rose garden I saw withering evened out by blossom I sought after a floating flutter I sought after the wings of a flower What could be missing in this scenic botany? Aroma and beauty is not the only expectancy It feels like a beauty parlour without hairdressers It feels like a sweet flavor without taste-testers The greeter of the flower buds The day watch of rosariums The symbol of a warm welcome Is in the romance of a butterfly Daylight misses their soundless claps Daylight misses their flight We clipped their colorful flaps When we killed all the butterflies