Miss butterfly

I am in this backyard, 4.30 pm, and you don't care about time
We are talking about life, miss butterfly and I.
I will die young, she says, in two months.
I will die young, I said, when I will be twenty.

In my twenties I would have known successful deals,
Spiritual walks, Insane one night stands, Love
But a first, second and third sight.
I would have kissed the lady who would
Have triggered my invincibility power.

In your first month, you would have known how far
Your wings would have brought you,
Where to find food when comes the storm, where to find the best partner
To reproduce, to give life, to be life! And die...

I will die,young, in my late forties,
With some new powers unleashed,
Building a solid legacy, knowing my purpose,
Sharing my vision, feeling vulnerable after the lost of some cherished ones.
Lover of the life.

You will die young, in your third month, laying your eggs,kissing Goodbye.
I will die young, in my early eighties, redefining love, faith, understanding..
Your wings will become similar to leaves, floating in the wind, flying!
My soul will be sailing, in the universe, underneath the earth..

I will die young.