Papillon! Papillon! Love, Revel, and Dance with the Papillon!
A fancy french word for Butterfly, but nothing in art so simple exists. A symbol of life, of freedom, of birth, and a reason to percolate joy. Old skeletons grow skin, when around they begin, to hatch and morphose and revive. Absolved of their sins, new life it begins, as Butterfly opens new eyes.
Do not be decieved by the caterpillar skulk, with the sour look of death on its face. It emerges so bright, in a fresh breath of light, to become the eternal of grace. But please do not touch, the rainbow of color, it's better to enamor afar. Its delicate wings sport the finest of things, you can cripple by grabbing it hard.
Tread lightly, speak softly and enjoy it's sweet life, pay homage to the soul of a creature of strife. Your wide, wild wings make the stagnant air sing, while nature erupts with green envy. Do not fret, nor regret, you were born only met, as the human of being you are. In the next with great luck, you become quite unstuck, and emerge as a butterfly star!
Papillon, Papillon, oh how we wish, we all had a dose, what you're on... though it may be just merely, you high on the life... a vision of beauty, a symbol of life.