The Lost Wing (A Ballad)

It was as if it was meant solely for me
To find that beautiful vestige of a beautiful creation
For, I am sure it had been there for a while
Waiting for salvation.

A clipped wing of a butterfly
Whole, yet incomplete
A sign of violent sadism
Or perhaps, just a disaster from destiny.

It marked sorrow and death, true
But the colours hadn't yet faded
I considered myself lucky
For I had found something priceless, something that couldn't be graded.

And so, like a fascinated kid
I handled it with care
And took it with me
Away from its past nightmares.

I truly believed it was no coincidence
And somehow, for me, a clipped wing gave hope
Perhaps, the universe wanted to lend a wing
To protect, to hold.

I considered pasting it to my diary
But, I shunned away the thought
For, although I wanted to preserve it
I didn't want my decisions to become a bondage.

Thus, I preserved it, the last page of my diary its home
I still felt so proud, so lucky
But, today, when I wanted a glimpse of hope
It turned out I was to face an empty page.

Lost was that wing, the hope from nature
Not even its print on the page
But, what is bittersweet, is
It finally was free, hopefully now, flying in solace.

The Lost wing.
The Lost hope.

The Free wing.
The Free hope.