Burned Butterflies

The butterflies are gone

Burned in the flame

Their wings singeing

Silent shrieks sound the air

For they are no more

But they live on

Their souls reappearing

Every once in awhile

Yet just to be burned again

They do not wince

From the pain

But fall with breathless

Their wings stop fluttering

Falling

Falling slowly

Into the burning flame

For they glided in the air

But will no more

For they have burned

As for the remains

They are doused in water

The flames are gone

But ashes of them

The butterflies

Still lay there

To stay sleeping

Forever dreaming

Of flying and gliding again

But they have died

Burned by the flames

Goodbye,

Burned butterflies