A beautiful butterfly
Flitting around
Wings glistening like spiderwebs
In the dimming evening light
That's what hope is.

A little child
Murmuring softly
Content with the way
The world appears to her
That's what hope is.

A happy couple
Newly wed
Immersed in each other
And the perfection of it all
That's what hope is.

Then there's me
I reach out to touch the butterfly
But I crush it's beautiful wings.
I try to hold the child
But I smother her little face.
I want to be like that couple
But I shatter those happy dreams.

It isn't something I want to do
It isn't what I am
I swear it
By the beauty of that butterfly
The innocence of that child
By the happiness of that couple
It isn't me.

But everytime I lift my head
I've crushed
Smothered
Shattered
Something else

So maybe I'm just stupid.
It must be me
Who else could it be?

Penned by my hand on the 8th of Halitus, in the year 403 AD.