At the place where death and darkness call
And souls become debris,
Lies a sacred spot where pale leaves fall
From an ageing blossom tree.
And there amongst its petals
That float from tomb to tomb,
I saw a skeleton settle
To escape his life of gloom.
I watched him into nightfall,
I feared his ghoulish glare,
A corpse so cold and pale and tall,
I couldn’t help but stare.
A butterfly then flew close by,
Its fate seemed clear to me,
But the skeleton held it, with a tear in his eye
And then gently set it free.