They have been roaming streets and avenues
long before honest souls had awakened
into another Monday.
It was to be a great day of much bounty
for the voracious teeth of the roaring monsters
driven by their half-conscious pilots.
Frigid in the north, balmy in the south
emboldened by some brew hot or cold
before the fumes of their green robots.
Customary armies of holidays passed
they were dying for another piece of memories
to process those joyous moments gone.
Colorful cardboard boxes made for disproportionate friends
papers of multicolored stars and snowflakes
food for these psychopathic ogres.
No more time to celebrate the birthday of a king
as children shed a tear upon the passage of
a strange sled too hungry to feed their dreams.
Miracle of the Butterfly
Crawling across the pathway she hopes
for another inch to her survival
under threat of the unforgiving sole
blind to the many worlds below.
It is a hard journey for the one who fights
with nothing more than an eternal fate
to feast our eyes on unknown perfection
alone on the most perilous adventure.
Yet she will live to hide in her precious home
made of silk and promises, upon a tree limb
the warm protection of an unlikely abode
a place to become an instrument of seduction.
The child contemplates the chrysalis
cowardly trapped in a crumbling box
with no food but the eye of a teen
expecting miracles in a strange prison.
Terror resides within her fragile home
as she knows her life may be brief
thus, she must dazzle with her colors
and a flight to the zenith at noon.
From a strange mixture of mysterious potions
the eternal code will tell the tale
to make this miracle true
like so many creatures to be born in amazement.