The Butterfly Poem by Naveed Akram

The butterfly in the blessed sky looks up and sways,
Futile flight is a gesture of the polite, a moment of days.
I see cacti as we buy credible toys from the market-place,
Stinging is singing, like the crying dolls over my race.
Moisture is the opposite of judgment, as the toys come alive,
A texture has appealed to our senses and feelings we contrive.
Bust of the earth is sculpted by brothers of the day so complete,
The butterfly sets itself on the face of the effigy so concrete.

We cheat, we beat and we chime like bells going crazy and mad,
The butterflies arise, with arguments of the heavenly sad.
An innocent man aroused the mind's eye, meteors are mighty,
An angry man aroused the menacing mind, so like an absurdity.
The butterfly arose from forms of utterly brilliant bravery and brevity,
It flew from one hatching sky, it devilled with the opposite longevity.
Textures, sessions and praises are the tables of this party and start,
The human partners outlive the shining spectacle of a butterfly apart.