All the creatures in the garden were excited.
It was early spring and soon the skies would be dotted with the many colours of new buterflies.
Except, for Papilio who was pretty sad that spring was here already.
He was the youngest catterpilar, and loved to eat and laze around all day.
When his friends told him that he would turn into a butterfly soon, he just couldn't accept it.
He didn't want to become a butterfly.
"I'm not a butterfly" he said, " I'm just a caterpillar, I cant fly up there. This is what I am and I' ll stay this way!"
No matter how much his friends encouraged him, he wouldn't go into his cocoon,
because deep inside he was afraid that he would never be able to fly and become a butterfly.
Soon all his friend began to grow into beautiful butterflies.
Yet, Papilio wasn't lonely he had made friends with the lady bug and the snail. He felt this was his place.
One day he felt his skin shedding and he was becoming bigger.
His friends were shocked at how ugly he had become.
That was the last time he saw the lady bug and the snail, they had left him to be alone.
He was very sad, he went to his cocoon and stayed there for a long time, until he realised,
his body had changed. he came out of the cocoon and realized that he had grown beautifully patterned wings.
He realized that he had turned into a butterfly, he had always been one.
All he had to do was just be himself. Though, what he was was not always what he thought he was.

In the land of the dead,
So much red is shed.
The land brims with fabrication,
Darkness dwelling in despair and deception.

Inferno looks down on this land,
All green has turned into sand.
The aquamarines then start to dissolve,
The contamination has yet no resolve.

Empty vessels move around,
The land somehow keeps going round and round.
The vessels throng in institutions of make-believe;
Stylites filling the vessels with fake believe.

None shall be safe from the hands of the serpent,
Gibbons keep pulling each other's tails mordant.
Trying to cut the rhea's wings by force,
Poking around the eyes of papilio xuthus without remorse.

The sheep and tiger **** hand in hand,
The dove and eagle fly land to land.
The jaguar and sloth sleep in the sand,
All of it is now disband.

The more you feel here, the more you suffer,
At a state the heart can never recover.
Melancholy will gloom your mind,
No escape, here, you are confined.

Ow who shall save thou?
No augur is coming now.
Damascus is filled with cannons,
Deaths in Bethlehem are now canons.

But walks in this land a creature,
With all these peculiar and extraordinary feature.
Something so unbothered by these mess,
Something that could not have cared less.

Nobody knows where it came from,
None aware that it doesn't succumb.
It crawls around this empty land.
Avoiding the ushers as it stand.

Can this creature show them change?
Can it be the answer to rearrange?
Will it be their savior?
Is its reticence the proper behavior?

Is it telling them to mind their own beeswax?
Or does it not care about the land's collapse?
Is it the land's protector?
Or maybe its annihilator?

All they can do is hope and pray,
That it doesn't consider them as prey.
Or maybe it doesn't want to be adored,
Does it want the land to be restored?

Maybe it will revivify this wretched place.
Or maybe it will obliterate its trace.
Or maybe both paths are the same!
Only it knows what's its aim!