Trapped in a Butterfly

The dust, it falls into my eyes,
It blinds my sight, it makes me cry,
Too many lifetimes old my soul,
It won't awake it's broken song.

It glides across a crystal garden,
And feeds from what I've been starving,
The mirror made of earthly flowers,
Won't show my pain of lonely hours.

In every raindrop I see the nightsky
From the nights when the storm was by my side,
And every thunder that roared in the Earth
With water from blue sap the forests would bathe.

Now I am the prisoner of beauty,
Subservient to its cruelty,
Inside the colors praised by men,
Absent from where I would dwell.

In the core outside perception,
Within linens of perfection,
I have drunk of sweet delight,
From immortal tears of time.

Until the men of endless weeping
Through their five ways couldn't reach me,
So they cut me into bits and pieces,
And on the butterfly engraved their wishes.

Being named was my damnation,
Confined in wings without salvation,
A lovely form seen from afar,
That's out of reach from stumbling hands.

Though in the sphere of understanding
I'm trapped while they're commanding,
When their thirst for truth is quenched,
I will seek to find revenge.