Baskadia

The gorgeous garden blossoms,

The wallowing wind blows,

Golden rays radiate red flowers,

The morning dew sparkles sepals,

Thee pretty perilous petals grow and glow,

Releasing sweet scents.

We the butterflies,

Beautifully fly in the air,

The pretty perilous petals attract,

They silently stare and lure,

Thirsting for our lives.

We are warned,

But oblivious of the peril,

We prolong our proboscises,

Slowly and steadily we suck,

We sack the nectar sack,

We feel so high,

But our vision so nigh.

For a moment we reflect,

The nectar we inject,

We sniff and puff,

We dare to drink,

These fatal petals addict,

Day turns into night;

We get intoxicated,

We are simply complicated,

Suddenly heartbreak, crashed,

Gnashed, smashed!

Tumultuously tormented and trashed.

Then our wings weaken,

There’s blight in our flight,

Our memory we lose,

Blurred is our sight,

We are stressed, depressed,

Compressed by the fatal petals,

All we do isn’t right,

We the bright no longer delight.

We are fumbling in ecstasy,

Our reflection old and weary,

Legs feeble and flimsy,

Hearts throb…

Then stop!

We are battered butterflies.

No more of these fatal petals,

We report to the gardener,

All fatal petals uprooted,

We regain a lease of life,

We warn all butterflies,

Production and peddling banned.

That cocaine you enjoy

Shall bring no joy,

It is a fatal petal,

That cigar you smoke

Shall choke,

A fatal petal it is,

That alcohol is archaic,

It will batter our butterflies,

You and i-

Let’s say no!

To these fatal petals!