A butterfly in the corner.
I view it since a week,
mistaking it a just released spider.
It is a tiny butterfly, stuck to the
Corner of the high vaulted roof,
A new varnish tempting ,
tampering the ceiling as well,
it is not prying mantis to hold
If a Crore is inlaid the walls,
From afar, a lizard fast approaches
to gourmet the innocent, sleeping,
My pointed stick prevents the holocaust.
May be the butterfly does not
dash to go , dare the traffic of the
trafficking world,
happy to be in its halcyon days :
there is a sweet, tweet
as if touch it not, disturb it not.
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