Ryly Grant


Look from the eyes of malice
Stained ruby with fresh dried blood
Longingly seek the comforts of death
In the pool of still water
Look glaringly upon the children
Watching the dancing butterflies

Follow the dancing flight of the butterflies
Flitting gently, free of malice
Only there to delight the children
Sipping nectar, their life’s blood
From the flowers by the pool of still water
Before the first frost claims them in death

But they do not fear the coming of death
These painted, dancing butterflies
They know nothing besides the water
Unaware of any malice
They only drink of their life’s blood
Unaware of even the children

Now look upon the laughing children
So near and yet so far from death
Knowing little of pain or blood
Only watching the butterflies
Innocent and free of malice
On the flowers by the still water

Now what are the thoughts of still water
What does it know of the children
Does it know of kindness or malice
Is it aware of life or death
Does it know the butterflies
Are drinking of their life’s blood

And what does the life’s blood
Know as it blooms beside the water
Does it know the feeding butterflies
Does it know the laughing children
Is it aware of life or death
Is it truly free of malice

And does the blood really hold malice
Does the water watch for death
Watch the butterflies, watch the children


Copyright 2002-2007 Student Publishing Program (SPP). Poetry and prose 2002-2007 by individual authors. Reprinted with permission. SPP developed and designed by Strong Bat Productions.