Obsidian Butterflies

The body is a fragile grail so when it dies
Skies vibrate as a veil and strong winds howl
In a while the grail turns to obsidian butterflies
Which fly right to the ancient temple below

To soothing earth, to the heart of everything
Ripping off their tiny wings with no shame and regret
Their sufferings have no voice, only shimmering
Is left of their existence in your head

Your eyes failed to absorb beauty in its quietude
Reflections of it provoke drowsy thoughts
It happens when you're bounded in your solitude
So silent scream reaches out of your throat

Be patient still, take care to the universe
Which looks at you with the eyes of the distant stars
For someone it's blessing, for you it's a curse
So you're doomed to turn into dust

Become primeval clay of red colour underneath
With the image of the ancient temple inside
But it won't happen until you breathe
Until your eyes are wide open, you're blind

Visions support you in the battle with strange desire
Should I say the cruelest enemy is your shade?
What do you feel when your body
                turns to obsidian butterflies?
Are you afraid?