Rising in a hurricane,
Coming down in crashing waves
Butterfly stampede
Flying in disorder, chaos in their numbers
Flying, thrashing, stamping, swinging, blinding chocking
Silently killing
But one day in that holocaust,
A hand came down and crushed the lot
Killing number, flashing thunder,
Hurricane slumber
Down came the butterflies
One by one they hit the ground
Dripping down and lying dead,
Cursed by the mighty hand
Technicolor poet
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