Butterflies
Mahnaz Badihian
In my world, butterflies wage war,
Their beliefs intertwined, like ours,
Bound together from all directions,
Hidden wounds, no one sees the scars.
And this somber cat before me sits,
Unaware that loneliness is the same,
For both of us, it equally befits,
No footsteps echo, in this lonely game.
Commuters with wounded feet,
Return from a world of madness,
Seek the wondrous Land so sweet,
Where butterflies fear the breeze’s gladness.
From where we escaped, I ponder,
To find ourselves against this towering wall,
A Land that wields an axe, it squanders,
And scatters its roots on sorrow’s shore fall.
