A Frightly Faint

Like butterflies on a window sill

Not knowing where the winds will

Take them and place them down

Will heaven or hell declare them found?

Reminded of their fragility 

Their wings immune to the mystery

Of what's left for us on the other side

And what will be remembered of their last glide

Standing tall at ten foot two

Always standing right in front of you

Reminded of your fragility 

And that flesh is heir to the scenery

Of black pigments filling the space

Reminded of your remaining time in this place